The Butterfly Effect
by Starrie Wolf
Summary: To his friends, Ichigo made a promise. "I won't fail you again. Not this time." Time travel.
1. Prologue

**Prologue: I reject! Orihime's resolve**

The war was over. Aizen had won.

Ichigo stared pensively up at the sky, sprawled on the ground outside Urahara Shōten.

A stabilised Garganta in the sky allowed Hollows to come and go as they pleased, terrorising the residents, and there was nothing he could do. Even if he could purify all the Hollows, there was nowhere to send them. Soul Society had been completely destroyed, the entire _world_ merged into Hueco Mundo. Karakura Town, indeed any town left at all in the real world, was literally a ghost town.

What was all his training for?

All his power, all for naught. So what if he could materialise his Hollow Mask at will, and keep it on for as long as he had reiatsu left? So what if he had come to a truce with his inner Hollow, who had agreed to fight alongside his King? So what if he could defeat the Primera Espada single-handedly?

No matter what he did, Aizen was always ahead of him.

He had failed them. He had sworn to protect them, and he had failed them.

Ever since the overlord got his hands on the King's Key, the resistance stood no chance. The last of them, if they could be termed a resistance at all, had gone into hiding behind Urahara Shōten's extensive wards. The last haven safe from Aizen's clutches, thanks to Tessai.

Ichigo blamed himself for everything. For the deaths of his friends, for the way his father stopped smiling, for Yuzu's new ability to see spirits, for Karin's tears, for the haunted look in Yoruichi's eyes...

They had all lost the ones closest to them. They had all blamed themselves in some way, he knew. And they had all found different ways to cope.

Yoruichi developed an aversion to bees, Kisuke worked himself to the ground to find a new way,_ any _way to stop Aizen, Isshin talked compulsively to the poster of Masaki, Yuzu cooked, and Ichigo – Ichigo stared up at the sky wondering what he could have done differently.

If only he had become stronger _faster_, become stronger before Aizen had a chance to destroy everything he held precious, none of that would have happened. He was the only one who could match Aizen, the only one not caught in his zanpakutō's illusions.

Four fully-fledged shinigami and an odd motley crew against the new Soul King and his army of minions.

It was clear that the war was over.

But could he really sit and wait for death? After all the people who had sacrificed their lives for him?

"Ichi-nii," called Yuzu, appearing at the door of the Shōten and interrupting his musings, "dinner is ready."

"I'm not hungry," Ichigo replied without thinking, still caught in the "what if"s.

Instantly, his sister's face crumpled. Ichigo hastily changed his mind, standing up. Yuzu cooked compulsively. It was her way of coping with the war, and Ichigo had no intention of discouraging it.

Then the world exploded.

Ichigo threw himself in Yuzu's direction as the roof shook violently. Before he could reach her, however, the ground rocked again and the walls folded, sending the roof crashing down. Ichigo cried out sharply as he hit the ground, splinters of wood cutting into the arms he instinctively brought up to protect his face.

Silence, save for the debris settling around him.

Lying facedown on the ground and breathless, Ichigo tried to extend his reiatsu to see if it was an ambush. He found no Arrancar presence, which reassured him enough to check his immediate surroundings next.

There was a weight lying over him, sticky fluid soaking into his hakama. Blood. But if he was bleeding, why was there no pain? And for that matter, the weight on top of him was too cold to be simply wood from a broken piece of furniture. It was almost as if…

Ichigo slowly turned his head to the right to meet golden irises. "Yo, aibō," his inner Hollow rasped, almost immediately coughing up more blood.

Specks of black hit Ichigo's cheek but he did not flinch. "Why?" he whispered numbly, "Why did you save me?"

Hichigo coughed again, the familiar grin appearing on his face. "Maa, a Horse needs his King. Anyway, you're forgetting about my instant regeneration."

When he was fifteen, had anyone told him that his Hollow could be self-sacrificing and _rational_, Ichigo would have recommended them to the nearest asylum. That was before he had held the hōgyoku in his own hands, trying to get the orb away from Aizen, and it had thrown the last of its power into him. Ever since then, instead of an inner Hollow, the proper term would be an inner Arrancar. Complete with a Resurreción, though Hichigo preferred to swing his white Zangetsu around while in bankai.

Footsteps sounded. A few seconds later, hands gently lifted the weight off. Ignoring the pained groan from his Horse, Ichigo twisted around and sat up, gingerly holding Hichigo in his arms. "Thank you," he whispered to his white counterpart, whose hakama was stained nearly totally black with blood. Hichigo smirked, closed his eyes and vanished in a spray of reiatsu particles.

"Are you all right, Ichigo?" Yoruichi asked, crouched in front of him.

"Aa," Ichigo answered, pulling the splinters out of his arm and turning his head, "what about Yu –" the words died in his throat.

Isshin was several steps away, eyes transfixed on what had been the doorway of Urahara Shōten.

Yuzu was in a tiny ball, arms wrapped around her head. Ichigo could almost believe she had survived the explosion, had there not been several long pieces of wood digging into – into her… he turned away, unable to continue looking, only to spot Karin.

His other sister had one hand outstretched towards Yuzu, face twisted in pain. She had obviously tried to do the same thing Ichigo had wanted to, but had no inner Hollow to protect her from the flying debris. Even as he stared in horror, Karin's body shattered into reiatsu particles and disappeared.

Bare feet padded hurriedly across the ground, skidding to a stop. They stopped. In the silence, a sharp sucking in of breath was audible.

"Kisuke, if that's one of your experiments gone wrong I'm going to kill you," Isshin murmured, almost pleasantly.

"It's not," Urahara Kisuke replied, equally quietly, grey eyes for once not drooping in exhaustion. Some part of Ichigo, the part not numb with shock at the sight of both his sisters' deaths, was surprised. Kisuke had obviously gotten some sleep recently, a feat he thought the former shopkeeper no longer capable of. He was about to inquire after the change when –

"Sa-SADO-KUN!" came Orihime's panicked voice.

Ichigo was not aware of when he started running, running towards her voice. _Not Chad. Please. No._

The scene he stumbled on stopped him in shock.

Chad was sprawled on the ground, left arm buried in the chest of an Arrancar. The same kind that had killed Ishida Uryū. Its ability to mask reiatsu was probably how it got past the wards around Urahara Shōten in the first place.

Orihime had stopped screaming, and was simply rocking back and forth, hands fluttering in agitation as an orange dome briefly enveloped Chad before disappearing. For all her powers, she could not bring the dead back to life, and the Shun Shun Rikka knew that.

"Kurosaki-kun!" she exclaimed, jerking her head up. It was her eyes that drew his attention, eyes filled with helplessness and despair and _terror_.

"Inoue," Ichigo murmured, because there was nothing else he could say.

His voice appeared to break her out of the horrified staring, and she crumpled onto Chad's chest, sobbing hysterically. "Why wasn't I strong enough? Fast enough? I could have blocked it, could have done something…" Hands clutched weakly at her hairpins, pulling them free.

"It wasn't your fault," Ichigo started, kneeling beside her and stretching out a hand to comfort her.

Through her muffled weeping he could barely hear her next words. "I… I regret not being able to do anything…"

"Ichigo!"

Ichigo had barely a moment to realise something was very, _very_ wrong when Orihime screamed, her head snapping backwards, and for the first time he took in the chain dangling from her chest. The broken chain.

Then her reiatsu mutated.

Ichigo threw himself backwards, eyes wide with horror as the Hollow – Inoue, it was _Inoue_ – swiped blindly at him with new too-sharp claws. His awkward former position afforded him little balance as he toppled over, barely putting any distance between them. Ichigo fumbled for Zangetsu, already knowing he would never manage to raise the zanpakutō in time.

"Nake, Benihime."

Claws bounced off a blood-red shield, fraction of a second away from ripping off his arm.

Then Kisuke was suddenly in front of him, blocking Hollow-Orihime's frenzied attacks, while Yoruichi – who had yelled his name earlier – was dragging him out of the way because his legs were too numb to move.

How could he have missed Orihime's soul chain earlier?

"She… she _regretted_…" _strongly enough to turn her into a Hollow_, he wanted to say, but the words could not come.

"Is there any chance she might become a Vizard?" Ichigo asked, clinging on to the last shred of hope he had.

In response, Yoruichi simply gave him a sad, sad smile, eyes fixed on Kisuke's back and the swiping claws.

"But she has reiatsu too and… and –" Ichigo trailed off, unable to finish his half-hearted protest. Orihime had never been a shinigami, and thus she could not become a Vizard. His mind knew that, but his heart could not bear to accept it, not when that would mean the last two of his friends were truly gone.

"Why does it have to be like this?" he asked instead.

Silence met his rhetorical question, only broken by the sounds of Benihime meeting claws. Ichigo blinked, his attention finally focusing on the pair. Kisuke was merely defending, not attacking, else the battle would have ended long ago. He turned a questioning gaze on Yoruichi.

"She reminds him of Hiyori," murmured Yoruichi, gaze never leaving the duo.

Suddenly Ichigo understood. The reason why Kisuke never sent Orihime into battle, why he refused to spar with the girl, why even now he could not attack the Hollow she had become. "He blames himself for her death," he whispered.

Yoruichi said nothing, eyes riveted on Kisuke.

Hollow-Orihime growled again, one paw crashing into the blood-red shield Kisuke called up in time.

"And she is your friend," Isshin spoke up and Ichigo jumped. He had not even sensed his father approach. "You need to make the final choice."

Kisuke tilted his head sideways, one grey eye searching out Ichigo with unerring accuracy. A hint of emotion flashed through the visible eye, an emotion that Ichigo recognised.

Pain.

He saw it in the mirror everyday.

Kisuke was suffering just as much as everyone else. The man had jumped in to save Ichigo from a possibly fatal blow, but in doing so he had forced himself to raise his zanpakutō against someone he had failed to protect. The reminder of someone else whom he had failed.

In that split second Ichigo knew what to do. His hand scrabbled blindly for Zangetsu's hilt, swinging it down at the geta-bōshi's back.

"Getsuga Tenshō!"

With a quick burst of shunpo Kisuke flitted to the side, allowing the weak version of the attack to smash right into Hollow-Orihime. She screeched in surprise, one clawed hand flying up to touch her mask, which was already crumbling at the edges.

The mask took an eternity to shatter, each broken fragment revealing more of Orihime's tear-stained face.

"I'm so sorry," she whispered, still clutching her hairpins as she dissolved. "I wish this had never happened."

And the world spun out of focus.

… … … … … … …

_Back when there were more of them, they had taken the battle to Hueco Mundo. All the seated officers of the Eleventh Division had volunteered to be part of the assault. They charged at the front, Kenpachi in the lead, Yachiru as always on his shoulder. "The one who kills the most gets free sake!" he had yelled to the wildly cheering division._

… … … … … … …

_A flash of red. A spray of blood._

_In the midst of the chaos darted a tiny figure, whose speed and agility enabled her to avoid the brunt of the Arrancars' blows._

_Any who ever questioned Kenpachi's decision to promote Yachiru to fukutaichō had all of their doubts erased when her reiatsu exploded around her, painting the surroundings crimson._

… … … … … … …

Kenpachi, Yachiru, Ikkaku… Ichigo had to watch them fall.

… … … … … … …

"_BANKAI!"_

_Thousands of vines erupted from the ground, wrapping around the Arrancar army. They screamed and writhed, fighting desperately to get out of the bindings, which sapped them of their strength._

_Then the reiatsu stored in the vines detonated._

"_YUMICHIKA!"_

"_Heh… I win."_

… … … … … … …

"_Aizen, you bastard!"_

"_Gin-kun, how did you…"_

_Blazing red eyes with the ability to see through any illusion, the reason why Aizen had possessed him for over a century, would forever haunt the survivors of the Battle at Las Noches. Aizen's twisted portrayal of him paled in comparison to the real Ichimaru Gin._

… … … … … … …

_Yamamoto-soutaichō, who had sought out Aizen right at the beginning of the invasion, was not faring much better. They had been locked in a stalemate for so long, even after both had released their bankai. Ryūjin Jakka lived up to its name, burning away all but the illusions created by Kyoka Suigetsu._

_The soutaichō was concentrating so hard on breaking the deadlock that he failed to notice a sneak shot by a tiny Arrancar in his blind spot._

… … … … … … …

Following his victory in Hueco Mundo, Aizen pressed his attack to Soul Society itself, backed by newly-initiated Espada.

… … … … … … …

_Long-time friends Ukitake Jyūshirō and Kyōraku Shunsui fought back-to-back, flanked by their respective fukutaichō. Twin pairs of zanpakutō flashed in unison, until the new Arrancar scientist released a cloud of acid smoke. Jyūshirō had fallen to his knees, his lung condition worsened. In an attempt to block an incoming attack, Shunsui had thrown himself over his best friend._

_Twin pairs of zanpakutō fell._

… … … … … … …

_Unohana Retsu, who had been focused on mass-healing the badly injured, was caught off-guard when several Espada collaborated to fire one single massive cero at her bankai._

_She did not survive._

… … … … … … …

_Ganju and Kūkakū led Soul Society's last line of defence, fighting to protect their home. Fireworks exploded in the faces of the advancing Arrancar with unerring accuracy, dealing incomparable damage._

_It appeared as if Soul Society would succeed, until Huenco Mundo smashed into it and forcibly absorbed the world._

… … … … … … …

They moved to the real world, but Aizen was relentless in his pursuit, with no regard for the Espada who were replaced almost daily.

… … … … … … …

"_Taichō, watch out!"_

_A deafening crash. Ichigo turned his head just in time to see a whole section of buildings collapse on where the Tenth Division had formerly been fighting._

_Above the ground, Hyōrinmaru suddenly gave an agonizing howl and shattered into pieces._

_Somewhere, Ichigo was sure, hell had just frozen over._

… … … … … … …

"_Nel-sama!"_

"_I want to protect them too. Pesche, Dondachakka, you're free to leave if you want."_

_The two Fracción stuck by her, even when Aizen personally made sure she would serve as a warning to any other Arrancar who dared to even entertain the thought of betraying him._

… … … … … … …

_Soifon, who had flung herself in front of an attack meant for Yoruichi, smiled as her zanpakutō fell from her hands._

… … … … … … …

The losses were not only restricted to the shinigami. The difference was that Aizen could retaliate by creating more Arrancar, with different, _dangerous_ new powers.

… … … … … … …

_While walking home from the store, Ishida Uryū was caught by surprise by an Arrancar with the ability to enact a shield with properties similar to seki-seki rock._

_By the time anyone felt his reiatsu, it was too late._

… … … … … … …

_Ishida Ryūken, mad with grief, painted the sky blue with reiatsu arrows for three days and three nights straight. A Vasto Lorde numbered amongst his countless kills before he succumbed to the toll it took on his body._

_As the survivors quipped with respect, hell hath no fury like a Quincy scorned._

… … … … … … …

_Ichigo arrived home to see Renji sprawled across the doorstep, red hair spilling out of his hair tie, his hakama in shreds and a zanpakutō buried in his chest. His gigai was slumped protectively over the immobile forms of Yuzu and Karin. In a fit of blind rage Ichigo had attacked the Arrancar responsible. It was only after he had ripped the Arrancar apart that he realised Yuzu was still conscious and Karin lay in a hakama, her real body sliced into two._

_Yuzu could see spirits from then onwards._

… … … … … … …

_It was supposed to be a simple mission. Run interference, raid Aizen's temporary base in Karakura Town, and get out._

_Nothing ever went to plan, as the destruction of that base triggered a stabilised Garganta to open and out poured thousands of Arrancar led by the latest Espada._

_Ichigo was separated from the other Vizards almost immediately._

"_Lisa! Behind you!" Love shrieked._

_Bankai, being a reiatsu leech, was never meant to be used for long._

_Ichigo reached out, trying to blast the wall of Hollows between them out of his way, trying to do anything to get to the rest of them as one by one, they let go of their bankai. The last Vizard's reiatsu spiked once, twice, then plummeted._

_Somehow, even while falling Shinji managed to catch Ichigo's eye. A painful look flitted across his face as he mouthed, "Farewell."_

_The Hollows swarmed._

… … … … … … …

From far, far away, he could hear someone calling his name.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Who am I? A new beginning**

Kisuke caught himself before he hit the ground, springing into a crouch borne of training ingrained from his days in the Stealth Corps. Reiatsu flaring slightly as a sign of aggression, he bounced on the balls of his feet, ready for any attack. Behind him, he felt more than heard Yoruichi land such that they were back-to-back.

Only then did he take note of his surroundings. Kisuke drew in a sharp breath, and heard Yoruichi do the same.

"It couldn't be –" he murmured brokenly, staring. That place was gone, he had watched it fall apart, watched all the carefully-calibrated instruments he had left in his laboratory shatter, watched the one place he had fond memories of disappear into nothing. To see it once again, whole and undamaged…

He might have been exiled for over a century, but Soul Society had been his home for far longer than that.

He took a few shaking steps forward, hand pressed against cool seki-seki stone. It _felt_ real. Unbidden, tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He wanted to believe, wanted to believe so badly that Soul Society had somehow been resurrected…

"Kyōka Suigetsu?" suggested Yoruichi, but she too knew the difference. Aizen had never set foot there before its destruction; he could not have recreated what he had never seen.

Therefore, therefore, the only possibility was…

Drinking in the sight of his childhood playground, Kisuke almost missed Yoruichi's startled exclamation.

"Isshin?"

Kurosaki Isshin turned to face them, one hand on the hilt of his zanpakutō, the other absent-mindedly tracing the fukutaichō badge tied around his arm. His eyes were far away.

The three of them exchanged significant looks. Each of them thinking the same thing, but unable to say it out loud. Vocalising it would only serve to drive the point home.

What Inoue Orihime had done… it was impossible, but yet, nothing can be proven to be impossible…

The thoughtful silence was broken by a scream.

Three heads snapped towards the source of the sound, and Kisuke felt his heart leap into his mouth. So caught up were they in the revelation that they had not noticed a fourth person in their sanctuary. Isshin and Yoruichi rushed forward, but Kisuke paused, eyes narrowing.

Already his mind was rushing through the implications, the possibilities, and the reasons for Ichigo writhing on the ground screaming his lungs out.

His mind whirred to a stop.

"Take him this way," he snapped, breaking into a shunpo-aided run towards his laboratory.

… … … … … … …

Agony spiked through Ichigo. It was worse than the time Byakuya sliced him up with Senbonzakura, worse than Ulquiorra running his zanpakutō through his chest, worse than his last all-out battle with Hichigo before the newly-turned Arrancar agreed to follow him.

_Make it stop_, he begged silently, and miraculously the pain seemed to lessen.

Ichigo opened his eyes.

His father's features swam into view. "My son is awake!" he proclaimed loudly, arms spread wide open and a goofy smile on his face. Ichigo winced.

"Oww," he hissed, coughing.

Isshin darted off, yelling about finding his "beloved offspring" a cup of water.

With his father out of the way, Ichigo finally got his first look at the room he was in. He was lying on what seemed to be an operating table in the middle of what resembled his father's clinic.

"Where – where are we?" he asked.

"My laboratory," called Kisuke from somewhere to his left.

Ichigo sat up slowly, mindful of the pain that had been shooting through his body just a moment ago, and turned his head towards the direction of the voice.

His eyes widened. "You…"

"Aibō?" Sitting on another operating table beside Kisuke could be none other than his inner Arrancar, even if his appearance had changed enough to be nearly unrecognisable. The most obvious changes were that his white hair took on a pale blue sheen, while the pure gold in his eyes had diminished to mere flecks in pools of hazel.

"What is the last thing you remember, Ichigo-kun?" Kisuke walked towards him.

"Inoue disappearing into reiatsu particles," Ichigo replied honestly, heart clenching as that scene flashed across his mind. Another close friend dead because he could not reach her in time.

No matter how many loved ones he lost, it never got any easier.

"Do you remember what she said?" Kisuke pressed.

Ichigo frowned, trying to remember the last few seconds before the darkness fell. "Something about wishing Aizen did not win?" he guessed.

"Close enough," Kisuke allowed. "Her exact words were, 'I wish this never happened.'"

Ichigo stared. "But what does that have to –" he trailed off, eyes widening. "She _rejected_ Aizen's victory."

Their musings were interrupted by Isshin's reappearance, holding two cups of water that he passed to the two youngest.

"So what did the rejection do?" inquired Ichigo after slaking his thirst.

"To put it simply, we're now back in time," explained Yoruichi.

Twin sharp intakes of breath.

"Why us?" Hichigo questioned, "Why not anyone else?"

"I only have a theory," Kisuke demurred.

Isshin rolled his eyes at the feigned humility. "Which is likely correct."

"Very well. I believe that at the moment Inoue-san activated her powers, it is likely that she simultaneously wished for no harm to come to her allies, and subconsciously her visual stimulus triggered the rejection to bypass us."

Ichigo sent him a blank look. He was not stupid, but he preferred explanations in easier terms.

Kisuke smiled sheepishly. "Basically, when Inoue-san rejected the future, she saw us and subconsciously erected shields to protect us from the effects of the rejection. We weren't sent back in time; rather, it is everything else that was sent back."

"Why didn't you say that in the first place?" Ichigo deadpanned.

Kisuke's lopsided grin widened, sending them apologetic looks.

"That doesn't explain why I have my own body now," interrupted Hichigo. "And why I look like _this_." He sneered distastefully down at his new shinigami outfit while the other three snickered at his expression.

"When we woke up, we were in our secret hideout in Seireitei. Shortly after, Ichigo began convulsing in pain and he appeared to be _dissolving_, for lack of a better term," Yoruichi began.

Kisuke took over. "From the reiatsu fluctuations –" at a glare from Ichigo he corrected himself "– _dissolving_ I concluded that your presence was not being readily accepted by this world because you did not exist at this time. Therefore, I melded you with a few blanks left over from my gikongan research to provide an anchor for your soul."

"But even then, shouldn't we still be one person?" Hichigo asked.

"Ah, that would normally be the case, except one blank could not contain all of Ichigo's reiatsu. We had to use two." Kisuke smirked, waving one hand in front of his face before realising that he did not have his fan. He pouted.

"That doesn't make sense," Hichigo retorted, "King could hold both our reiatsu even when he was only human."

"Ichigo was born with abnormally large amounts of reiatsu, which his body had learnt to adapt to," explained Isshin.

"A normal blank certainly would explode," agreed Kisuke. "Not to mention that when Inoue-san's shield dissolved, we absorbed the leftover reiatsu."

"You can imagine the amount of reiatsu required to shield us from such a drastic change. In fact, our reiatsu levels are nearly doubled," added Yoruichi.

The two of them frowned, checking their reiatsu levels. "Mine increased by about a quarter…" mused Ichigo.

"Ditto," echoed Hichigo.

Yoruichi rolled her eyes. "I meant double of _our_ levels, not yours. And certainly not after you two split into two bodies."

"And the new appearances?" Isshin demanded suddenly, pointing at his son.

Kisuke shrugged. "It appears that blanks still retain traces of their former appearances." His eyes glinted with an odd light. "Interesting."

Ichigo did not miss the brief flash of surprise across Yoruichi's face, or the subtle glance she exchanged with Isshin. Kisuke was _interested_ in something. Even just being in Soul Society was good for him, it seemed. They had thought they would never see that spark in his eye again.

"Is there a mirror?" Hichigo cut in, obviously bored of the introspection.

"Over there," Kisuke waved vaguely, apparently distracted by some thought process.

Almost afraid of what he would see, Ichigo hopped off the table and stared at his reflection. He could not hold back a gasp. Gone was his distinctive spiky orange hair, in its place were shoulder-length indigo tresses. He could probably pass off as Tatsuki's brother now. And his brown eyes… they had darkened to mahogany. Looking closer, he noticed minute adjustments to his facial features, not enough to make a difference individually but when taken as a whole…

He still resembled Kurosaki Ichigo. That was, if the person making the comparison was drunk.

Beside him, Hichigo was running his hand through his new hair. "I look like a cross between Ukitake and Grimmjow," he complained. "Kami-sama, I look like a _shinigami_."

"At least it wasn't pink," Ichigo consoled him. They exchanged winces, an image of Szayel flashing through their minds. Although they had never met the scientist in person, the pictures Kisuke had obtained from the surveillance cameras in Las Noches – so _that_ was how Aizen knew where they were all the time – were horrifying enough. No wonder Uryū and Renji shuddered at any mention of his name.

"If you're done preening," Yoruichi called to the two, "Isshin and I need to leave."

"Leave? Where?" Ichigo jerked around, instantly alert. He was not losing anyone else…

"Divisions to run, paperwork to do…" Isshin replied cheerfully, pulling a face at the mention of paperwork.

Ichigo blinked. Oh yes, they were no longer in the middle of a war. "What about Kisuke-san?"

"Maa, since I don't have a haori yet, that means I'm still Yoru-chan's Third Seat, so she can give me a day off." Kisuke shot a winning smile at Yoruichi, who snorted and flapped a hand at him.

"I'll tell Soifon you're researching a new poison for the Onmitsukidō. That should give you a few days."

Ichigo scowled. "I don't need a babysitter!"

Yoruichi rolled her eyes. "Stop jumping to conclusions. Kisuke needs to figure out a new identity for you, unless you want to stay here for the rest of your life?"

"Oh." Ichigo sat down, feeling stupid. He had not even considered that.

"Well, we'll be off then. Ja ne!" The two leapt in the direction of the exit and were gone in a flit of shunpo.

For a long moment no one spoke, each immersed in their own thoughts.

"Let's go outside," Kisuke suggested abruptly. He needed to see it again… to remind himself it was real, that Soul Society still existed…

Hichigo made to move, one hand habitually reaching for Zangetsu. His hand met air.

"Where is it?" he yelped in part horror and part shock, spinning wildly around as though hoping to find it lying in a corner.

Ichigo jerked, panic rising up in his chest as he too swept his gaze around, leaping off the table in the process.

Kisuke came running back. "Where is what?" he asked urgently.

The duo turned to him. "Our _zanpakutō_!"

Kisuke's eyes widened. "I can't believe we didn't notice," he murmured, almost to himself. "When you arrived, Zangetsu wasn't with you."

"_WHAT?_" shrieked Ichigo.

"Calm down," ordered Kisuke. "I need to run some tests."

… … … … … … …

"Well?" demanded Hichigo when Kisuke finally, _finally_ stopped fiddling with various instruments and was just sitting there staring at a scrolling screen.

Kisuke frowned in response, nodding slowly to himself, before coming to a decision. He turned to face Ichigo. "There's only one explanation for this. You are no longer Kurosaki Ichigo."

Ichigo spluttered. "What – how –"

Kisuke shot him a look that silenced all his denials. The geta-bōshi might have been annoying, aloof, and all that, but he was rarely wrong. Certainly, Kisuke would have triple-checked his data before daring to voice his conclusion to a matter of this magnitude.

"Who is Kurosaki Ichigo?" Kisuke asked quietly.

"Me?" suggested Ichigo, confused.

"A human-turned-shinigami-turned-Vizard," suggested Hichigo.

Kisuke nodded.

"But… I'm human," wondered Ichigo.

Kisuke made an impatient noise. "You are in Soul Society. Your human body could never have survived the trip. Right now you are only a shinigami."

"I don't get it," complained Ichigo.

"You _were_ Kurosaki Ichigo. In this time, you are not," summarised Kisuke patiently.

"In this time…" repeated Ichigo slowly, trying to wrap his mind around that idea.

"So, our zanpakutō…" Hichigo mused out loud.

"Correct. The zanpakutō named Zangetsu is a part of the human named Kurosaki Ichigo, who does not exist in this time. For you to exist here, we had to merge you with a blank, and so right now you are no longer Kurosaki Ichigo."

"And thus Zangetsu is no longer mine," finished Ichigo.

Kisuke beamed. "Well done, Ichigo-kun." It was replaced by a frown again. "Well, it appears that we can't call you that now."

"Why?"

Kisuke hummed thoughtfully. "I suspect it's to prevent a paradox. In the future, there cannot be two known as Ichigo."

"Wait, so that means there's another Ichigo?" Ichigo asked.

"If your father and your mother get together again, their first son would be Kurosaki Ichigo," stated Kisuke. "You need to remember that that _was_ you, but you are no longer Kurosaki Ichigo."

"But if we get to the future, wouldn't I be Kurosaki Ichigo as well?" Ichigo pointed out.

Hichigo huffed. "King, what makes a person who they are?"

"Family, friends, memories, experiences… is that what you're driving at?" Ichigo's eyes widened.

"Yes, so you might be named Kurosaki Ichigo, but the two of you are completely different people, because the two of you have had different experiences," concluded Kisuke.

Ichigo closed his eyes. "I see."

He was no longer Kurosaki Ichigo. Zangetsu was no longer his zanpakutō. According to the speaker from the compulsory lecture after the Zanpakutō Rebellion, shinigami were born with their zanpakutō, and die with their zanpakutō. To lose Zangetsu… it was like losing a part of himself.

Ichigo opened his eyes as a new thought struck him. He would have time to grieve later. "But we're still shinigami. That means we still have zanpakutō, just not Zangetsu specifically."

Kisuke nodded.

"So, what are we exactly?"

"Since you two were split from one soul, I'd conjecture that both of you have a connection of some sorts. Exactly what, I have no idea."

Connection… a ghost of a memory slipped past Ichigo. When Hichigo was frantically looking for Zangetsu, he had somehow understood what the Arrancar was searching for without him mentioning it. He had begun panicking before he even realised what was going on. Was that the extent of their 'connection'?

"How do we find out?"

Kisuke smiled. "Close your eyes and meditate."

Nodding, the two of them made themselves comfortable on the floor. Ichigo closed his eyes, allowing his breathing to even out and himself to slip past the boundaries that held him in the real world.

He opened his eyes, expecting to see the sideways world he had associated with his mindscape. To his astonishment, he found Hichigo standing opposite him instead.

"Aren't we supposed to be two separate individuals now?" Hichigo asked, waving a hand at what was apparently still their shared mindscape.

Ichigo mulled it over. "Maybe because we're technically one soul in two bodies?" he suggested. "I'll ask Kisuke-san later."

The Arrancar conceded the point, falling into step beside his King as they explored their new mindscape.

Unlike the sunny blue sky and glass-panelled buildings in their previous inner world, the new world was made up of darker colour tones. Looking up, he saw lightning dancing across a sky stained dark crimson, dimly lit by a sun hanging low on the horizon.

Dark crimson. The colour of blood. Blood spilt on the battlefield, before they could arrive to help. When they arrived too late to help. Blood spilt by innocents, murdered by Arrancar swinging their zanpakutō wildly, who could care less whom they hit.

Dark crimson. The colour of war.

The two of them exchanged meaningful glances. Perhaps it was for the better that their mindscape had changed; it now better reflected their experiences than the cheerful optimism of the previous one exuded. Once a source of comfort, sunny blue skies could now only grate on their nerves.

The new mindscape would, at the very least, serve as a stark reminder as to their purpose in Soul Society: to defeat Aizen, before he could destroy all that they stood for again.

Turning his gaze downward, Ichigo noticed for the first time that the surface they had been walking on was not simply bare rock as he had assumed. In fact, it had the texture of obsidian, albeit a blue one, but rippled like water with every step they took. Bending down, he touched the surface with one finger. Light seemed to shift around the point of contact, bending sideways and causing different shades of blue to ripple across the ground.

Ichigo stood up, intrigued. From the zanpakutō lecture, he understood that the overall design of the mindscape was often shaped by a shinigami's personality, but the zanpakutō's abilities often influenced the details. Judging from what he had seen so far, that was _some _zanpakutō he had – or was the mindscape actually the product of two zanpakutō, if Hichigo had his own zanpakutō?

He was about to ask Hichigo for his opinion when the Arrancar tapped his arm, eyes fixed on a point in the distance. Ichigo spun around – and his breath caught.

The bond between a shinigami and his zanpakutō surpassed even that between lovers. It was held as common knowledge that the two would know each other anywhere, and would be instinctively drawn to each other even across worlds.

Eyes fixed on the two figures approaching, Ichigo almost forgot how to breathe.

"So, we finally meet our wielders," murmured the figure to the left, voice low and soothing.

Ichigo thought, very briefly, that he sounded like Byakuya and Ulquiorra rolled into one. That was before his heart swelled, nearly tangibly, at the feeling of simply being _near _his zanpakutō, part of himself, again.

The other figure raised a hand in a mock-salute. "Yo."

… … … … … … …

"So how was it?" Kisuke demanded the moment the two of them opened their eyes in the real world.

Ichigo shook his head slowly, trying to dislodge the feeling of seeing his zanpakutō for the first time. "Intense," he answered after a pause. "We met our zanpakutō spirits."

Kisuke's gaze sharpened. "We?" he inquired.

"Aa, for some reason, we have a common mindscape," agreed Hichigo.

"You two… you are konsōshi," murmured Kisuke to himself. Ichigo and Hichigo exchanged amazed looks.

"Soul twins?" exclaimed Hichigo.

"Are twins of one soul even possible?" Ichigo asked.

Kisuke shrugged. "Won't be the first time I invented the impossible." However, he too looked amazed.

In Soul Society, twins did not exist.

In the real world, conception occurred when sperm met egg, creating a zygote that developed into a body. Sometimes, there was more than one zygote, and hence more than one body developed at the same time. The creation of the new bodies then induced souls to disappear from Soul Society, to be reborn in the real world.

In Soul Society, only reiatsu particles existed. The ground, the buildings, the people… everything was made up of purely reiatsu particles.

Hence, conception in Soul Society only occurred if both possessed enough reiatsu together in order to create a new soul. The overall process was the same, but instead of sperms one party's reiatsu merged briefly with the other's during conception, and under favourable conditions the excess in their conjoined reiatsu broke off to form a new soul in the nearest container suitable for growth. It was usually the female's womb, but occasionally partners had reported nurturing chambers being chosen instead.

Most souls from Rukongai did not even have enough reiatsu to require food – an edible form of reiatsu particles that allowed the consumer to replenish reiatsu levels – much less than conceive. It was the reason why they formed families with other residents, sometimes with an adopted child or two. In fact, the only difference between nobles and commoners was whether they were born in Soul Society or the real world.

Even within noble families, conception was uncommon. The Four Great Clans were lucky to boast one child per generation in the main house. Adoption into the clan was compulsory for all spouses and concubines on the off chance that a child was possible, and conceiving a child would elevate both parties' class statuses above all others. In addition, the head of any noble house could choose to adopt promising individuals to boost the strength of the clan.

Conception of one child can only be guaranteed if both parties together possessed amounts of reiatsu equal to that of two average Gotei Thirteen taichō. Besides, the female bearer or the nurturing container must possess or receive reiatsu transfusions to maintain a reiatsu level that rivalled an average third seat's, in order to sustain the baby's growth.

Theoretically, if both parties together possessed thrice the amount of reiatsu required for the conception of one child, twins were possible. In actual practice, probably only Yamamoto, Aizen, Unohana, Jyūshirō, Shunsui, Isshin, Kenpachi, Byakuya and Ichigo were capable of that feat. It was no wonder that twins did not exist.

"Invented?" Hichigo raised an eyebrow.

"Well," Kisuke laughed, "I did give you those bodies, so you could say I invented a method."

"Any other conjectures you could come up with?" Ichigo asked.

The serious look reappeared. "Right now? I suppose, since both of you are linked in such a way, you would be able to freely utilise each other's zanpakutō just like fully-bonded shinigami. Actually, you'll probably have all the abilities bonded shinigami do."

"Bonded shinigami?" The term was new to the pair of them.

Kisuke stared. "No one ever told you about…" At their blank stares he chuckled ruefully. "Everyone probably assumed that you know."

"So, what are those?" Ichigo prompted.

"All right, a little background. On a daily basis, most shinigami unconsciously leak reiatsu around them," lectured Kisuke, remembering to keep his words simple. "Hence, shinigami who spend copious amounts of time around each other have minute quantities of each other's reiatsu. The closer you are, the more of the other's reiatsu you possess. This makes it easier for you to sense them and sometimes feel their stronger emotions. Fully-bonded shinigami are those who have allowed their reiatsu to merge once, usually lovers but sometimes best friends may have chosen to do so. The closest shinigami could even communicate mind-to-mind within a specific distance by briefly entering each other's mindscapes."

Ichigo's eyes widened.

"Since you are split from the same soul and already share one mindscape, you are definitely closer than any other shinigami. Theoretically, you ought to be able to feel each other even across worlds. With practice, communication should be possible."

"How do we do that?" asked Ichigo with interest.

"Recall the feeling you get right before slipping into your mindscape. When you're hovering on the edge, grab the reiatsu thread that connects the two of you, and project your thoughts along that," explained Kisuke. "Don't worry, it gets easier with time."

Deciding to test it out, Ichigo mentally reached out, seeking the red ribbon that represented Hichigo. _'Hello?'_ he tried, feeling rather idiotic.

He jumped when Hichigo's voice sounded too loud in his mind. _'YO!'_

Before he could protest the volume, Hichigo winced and suddenly Ichigo could _feel_ his unvoiced apology, accompanying a much softer, _'Sorry.'_

Opening his eyes – when had he closed them? – Ichigo could not stop the look of awe from crossing his face. "Wow," he whispered.

Kisuke grinned. "Useful skill, especially to pass messages in secret."

"Or to pass time during taichō meetings!"

Ichigo jumped again, spinning to face the door. "Yoruichi-san! Oyaji!"

"Tadaima!" called Isshin joyously.

"Okaeri," replied Ichigo and Kisuke at the same time, smiling in welcome.

"How was the paperwork today?" teased Kisuke.

Yoruichi grinned, "Oh. You know, the usual."

"So, how long did we go back anyway?" interrupted Hichigo anxiously.

The smile faded from both their faces. Ichigo suddenly felt very, very nervous.

"A hundred and forty-three years," Yoruichi replied.

Ichigo's eyes widened in shock. Hichigo whistled.

"So, now that we know what the date is, what are we going to do?" Isshin asked seriously.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Blending in, Kisuke's genius**

Ichigo's mind was blazing with possibilities. "A hundred and forty-three years… that means Aizen is still a fukutaichō."

"With none the wiser to his real intentions," agreed Yoruichi.

"He has a hundred and forty-three less years of experience than the Aizen we're used to battling," murmured Hichigo, eyes wide. "Maybe we _can_ defeat him after all." Eyes bright with anticipation, he made to rush out of the training grounds immediately, Ichigo hot on his heels. Their mutual excitement only served to fuel each other through their mindscape, threatening to send their emotions spiralling out of control.

"Wait." Isshin held up a hand.

"What?" Hichio snapepd impatiently.

"You expect to defeat a fukutaichō without even drawing your zanpakutō?" asked Isshin reasonably.

Ichigo blinked, hand automatically reaching behind his back before abruptly realising that Zangetsu no longer existed. "That wouldn't be a problem, I could just materialise my new zanpakutō. It's not like I've never used one before."

The adults frowned. "Tell me, how do you think your zanpakutō spirit would feel about being seen as nothing but a replacement for Zangetsu?" asked Kisuke sternly.

Ichigo paused and drooped. _'I apologise,'_ he sent silently, hoping his zanpakutō spirit would not take offence. Kisuke was right. He had a new bond, a new spirit, and there was no way he could be arrogant enough to presume he could simply replace Zangetsu with the new spirit. There were so many things he had taken for granted, so many things he wanted to tell the old man… and now he would never get the chance to do it.

He silently resolved to get to know his zanpakutō better this time around.

To his surprise, he felt Hichigo mirror his actions. His Arrancar almost never apologised, so for him to willingly do so… _'Seems like you're really turning into a shinigami.'_

'_Shut up!'_ yelped Hichigo, mortification burning down the bond. Ichigo chuckled, deciding to let the other off the hook for once.

He refocused just in time to see the three older shinigami exchange exasperated looks.

"This won't do," announced Yoruichi. "You can't just space out when you're using a bond to communicate. Not only will that tell everyone what you're doing, in a battle enemies will definitely get under your guard."

Isshin twitched suddenly. "Maa," he laughed nervously when everyone stared at him. "Just a bad experience with that."

Ichigo nodded thoughtfully. "How do I improve that?"

As one, three voices sounded simultaneously. "Practice!"

Hichigo groaned and slapped his forehead. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Practice," insisted Yoruichi. "When you're eating, when you're training, when you're talking to someone else… why, Kisuke and I can hold a conversation about what's for dinner while making a report to the sōtaichō."

"That's because you two have been best friends for way too long," grumbled Isshin.

"All right, back to the topic." Kisuke clapped his hands. "How do we kill Aizen?"

"We'll have to expose him before we can make our move," mused Yoruichi. "Unfortunately, it might just have to take something as drastic as Rukia's execution to do that."

Ichigo paled. "Is there no other way?" he asked desperately. While he had faith that Rukia would not be killed – whether due to his own intervention or that of his younger self – that was a hundred and twenty-five years away. One hundred and twenty-five too many years.

"Remember, Aizen even at this point in time has achieved mastery over his bankai. He can simply use an illusion to pretend he is where he's not," cautioned Kisuke.

Ichigo scowled at that reminder, but accepted the point.

"And we can't change too many events from the timeline we know," commented Isshin. "Who knows what effect that may have on the future?"

"How is that a bad thing?" queried Hichigo. "As long as Aizen is defeated, how bad can another future be?"

Isshin turned to him, face unreadable. "So it's all right if your actions cause Karin to never be born, or Orihime-chan to die along with her brother Sora in that car accident, or Rukia-chan to really be executed, or Jyūshirō-san's lung condition to worsen beyond healing, or…"

Both Ichigo and Hichigo winced, Ichigo holding up his hands in surrender. "So, we wait?" Hichigo clarified.

"We wait," confirmed Kisuke, eyes hard. "The important thing is, we need Aizen to slip up _before_ we can make our move."

"Even if he's going to conduct the Hollowfication experiments again?" Ichigo asked.

Yoruichi blinked. "We confronted him then, remember? Not that we were very helpful, of course."

"But then Shinji and the rest… they'll become Vizards again!" Ichigo exclaimed.

Kisuke stared at him. "So they'll get their inner Hollows again. Your point is?"

Abruptly, a bolt of anger mixed with shock slammed into Ichigo, momentarily taking his breath away. A hand landed on his shoulder, spinning him around to face its owner.

"Look at me, Ichigo," Hichigo snarled, "look at me and tell me honestly that you wish that I had never existed."

Ichigo opened his mouth to automatically protest, and then snapped it shut as the full implications of his words struck him.

"In the beginning, perhaps, they griped about their inner Hollows being irritating, but never once did any one of the Vizards say that they regretted their Hollowfication," Yoruichi informed Ichigo. "In fact, all of them thanked Kisuke for saving their lives by using the hōgyōku, because the alternative was death. If anything, I believe by the start of the Winter War in the fake Karakura Town you'll have noticed that they were proud to be Vizards."

"Soul Society, or rather more specifically Central 46 was going to execute them for something they had no control over," murmured Kisuke. "I think all of them – all of us, in fact – are glad that we've seen the truth about the famed shinigami council."

"You're right," Ichigo agreed, slumping, "I can't make the decision to take away their Hollows when I know they will choose to become Vizards all over again."

'_More like you'll need to watch what you say,'_ Hichigo griped. Ichigo winced, sending over a wave of apology. He did not mean to insult Hichigo; he simply spoke without speaking. He had seen Hollows as the enemy for so long that it was hard to remember Hollow did not equate to evil, that there were rogue shinigami like Aizen just like there were Arrancar who believed in peace. Ichigo's mahogany eyes dimmed as he rememebered Nel and her Fracción, who had died fighting for what they believed in.

Yet he was ready to interfere at the very thought of Shinji and the other Vizards receiving their inner Hollows again, despite the fact that he would not have given his own up for anything in the world. Ichigo chuckled darkly. _'I'm such a hypocrite.'_

'_No,'_ corrected Hichigo suddenly and startling Ichigo. _'Just a thoughtless idiot.'_

'_All right,'_ agreed Ichigo glumly. He really needed to watch his tongue.

Kisuke coughed loudly to get their attention. "So, we wait," he reiterated calmly. "But we cannot afford to be oblivious to Aizen's plans in the meantime."

Isshin glanced at him sharply. "You're proposing that we spy on him," he breathed quietly.

Ichigo frowned. "But wouldn't that change the future too?" Visions of not three, but more "traitors" to Soul Society danced in his mind.

Kisuke barked out a laugh. "Our very presence here is causing that future we knew to unravel. However, if you time it right the odds are in favour of a displacement reaction instead of a parallel shift –" Yoruichi coughed loudly and he hastily corrected himself "I mean it is more likely that you will be able to keep events in balance and not cause drastic changes in major events that we know of."

"Just who are you thinking of?" Hichigo demanded.

The five of them exchanged solemn glances. There was no way Aizen would believe them if any of the currently-established shinigami decided to supposedly change sides. It had to be someone new, someone whom he could be deceived into believing was loyal to him.

"Aizen recruited Tōsen and Gin nearly straight out of the Academy," reminded Isshin. "This shows that he prefers outspoken new shinigami with a lot of potential but has not yet become loyal to Soul Society."

"Possessed, more like," muttered Ichigo irritably. Even after nearly a year he could not believe that Aizen would stoop that low to ensure his plans would not be disrupted. Tōsen was blind, and Gin's eyes had the ability to see through illusions. They were the only two shinigami in the whole of Soul Society who would not be affected by his bankai, and Aizen took no chances.

Once, when drunk, Rangiku had blurted out that Gin was the reason she became a shinigami. If the Academy student who saved a little girl from freezing to death was the real Ichimaru Gin… he would never have agreed with Aizen's ideals. The Ichimaru Gin who followed Aizen was cold, calculating, and practically worshipped Aizen. Ichigo shivered as he recalled blazing red eyes and Gin's fury at being possessed by Aizen.

If he had a chance, he would make sure the two of them were able to break free of Aizen's grasp this time. But there was another fundamental problem.

"Aizen only recruited people who could otherwise pose a serious threat to him, so how would I begin to catch his attention?" Ichigo asked out loud.

He was slightly disturbed by the smirk spreading across Kisuke's face. "Simple. We'll give you a background story and make you irresistible to him."

"I don't suppose I have a say in this matter?" Isshin interrupted suddenly, having been silent throughout the discussion.

"It's Ichigo's decision. Or Hichigo's, whichever one of them chooses to go." Yoruichi laid a hand on Isshin's shoulder, but otherwise offered no comfort.

Isshin gave a terse nod. "Just… stay safe. Both of you," he whispered fiercely.

Taken aback, the twins nodded. "I will, tō-san," Ichigo murmured. Isshin's eyes widened. Ichigo had never called him 'tō-san' before; he had stopped using 'tō-chan' and jumped straight to 'oyaji' after Masaki's death. Perhaps, Ichigo was finally accepting his father.

"How would you make us attractive?" queried Hichigo.

"Aizen wants potential," explained Yoruichi. "He also wants to strike Soul Society where it hurts the most. So why not give him both?"

Ichigo's eyes widened. "You mean…"

"Hai," Yoruichi agreeded. "I'm saying I adopt one of you."

As the head of one of the Four Noble Houses in Soul Society, Yoruichi wielded an enormous amount of power. Anyone she adopts would be regarded in the same way as her. To have such a prestigious noble betray Soul Society… Aizen would no doubt deal Soul Society a huge blow. Ichigo had seen the aftermath of Rukia's supposed betrayal, and it was not pretty.

"To sweeten the deal, since I'm adopting you, you'll be my heir." Yoruichi smirked. "Those idiotic council members were ruining the Shihōin Clan the last time I left. This time I'm going to leave someone else in charge."

"Wait." Ichigo's head was spinning. "Leave?"

"Well of course." Yoruichi looked surprised. "If the Hollowfication happens again, we'll have to run away again." She turned serious. "This would mean that it's up to the three of you to handle Aizen inside Soul Society then, understand?"

"Yes," answered all three of them at the same time.

"So, the question is: do you want to do it?" Kisuke asked.

Ichigo was floored. "Let – let me think…" Mentally, he nudged Hichigo. _'What do you think?'_

'_I'm thinking you should be the clan heir,'_ replied Hichigo instantly. _'Meanwhile, I can scout around Rukongai.'_

"You're not joining the Gōtei Thirteen?" Ichigo was so surprised that he spoke out loud.

"I think it's better if we're not associated with each other at all," retorted Hichigo. "This way, if something goes wrong for one of us, the other can move in as backup. There's no way Aizen will suspect us being konsōshi."

"But then you're not planning on becoming a shinigami at all?" asked Ichigo in shock.

Hichigo rolled his eyes. "Of course I will, though probably after the Hollowfication – if it does happen. By that time, hopefully you'll be in Aizen's good graces so I just have to keep a look-out."

Ichigo gave a grunt of affirmation, lost in thought.

Heir of the Shihōin Clan, a position many would kill to have… Aizen would certainly jump at the chance to convert the heir of the Four Noble Houses to his side. He was flattered that Yoruichi was willing to give his that chance, especially since the position was for life. Even after Aizen's death, when his role as a spy was over, he would remain the clan heir. That kind of declaration was irreversible.

However, could he give up his family just like that? Could he give up being a Kurosaki, give up his parents and twin younger sisters and even Hichigo?

Hichigo made an impatient noise in the back of his throat. _'King, no one's asking you to give up your current family. You're just expanding it to include the Shihōin as well. Besides, do you really think what name you choose to respond to changes who you are?'_

The Arrancar – _former_ Arrancar – was right. Ichigo blinked in surprise.

'_I'm not smarter than you, King. You just don't use your brain often.'_ Hichigo sniped.

On the verge of responding aggressively, Ichigo paused and seriously considered what Hichigo was saying. Hichigo was created as his mirror image in terms of appearance, but all other attributes including intelligence should be the same as his. They grew up in identical environments and had identical genetic make-up except where Hichigo's appearance mirrored Ichigo's. Therefore, they should behave and think similarly, which meant if Hichigo could argue those points so could Ichigo.

"I agree to the adoption," Ichigo calmly informed the rest.

Yoruichi's face broke into a wide grin. "Excellent," she purred. Ichigo winced, remembering the borderline-torture she called "training".

"Ano, Yoruichi-san, how are you going to introduce me to the clan?" asked Ichigo nervously. That grin never boded well.

"Nee-sama," corrected Yoruichi impishly.

About to argue, Ichigo again tried to think things through. The council elders would certainly object to the adoption of a nobody in their eyes. There was no need to antagonise them even further by showing what they would perceive to be blatant disrespect to the current clan head. It was a matter of choosing which battles to fight. "Nee-sama," he relented with a sigh.

Yoruichi smiled in approval. She liked the honorifics attached to her name as much as Ichigo did, but she saw the necessity of it. Evidently, Ichigo did too. The teenager was finally starting to utilise his brain. Good.

"I'm going to bring you home and explain that you caught my eye as a rare prodigy and decided to adopt you as my heir."

"Prodigy?" Ichigo raised an eyebrow. Surely it could not be as simple as that?

"Why, yes. As far as they know, you're a Rukongai resident with an instinctive grasp of shunpo, proficiency in hakuda, rudimentary zanjutsu abilities and reiatsu levels on par with a fukutaichō. This kind of chance comes once in several lifetimes. Shinigami lifetimes." And shinigami lived for very, very long.

"Aah." Ichigo nodded. A word caught his attention however. "Fukutaichō-level reiatsu?"

Yoruichi grinned evilly. "Of course, you don't want to attract too much unwanted attention with abnormal levels, so keep your reiatsu compressed at all times, ne?"

Ichigo sighed and nodded again.

"Well," Kisuke rubbed his hands gleefully. "What shall we call you?"

Ichigo turned instinctively to Isshin. "Oyaji?"

Isshin smiled ruefully and waved a hand. "You get to choose it this time."

Ichigo blinked.

"Didn't you always complain about how people mistake your name for 'strawberry'?" prompted Isshin.

"Well, yeah," Ichigo started, "but I'll always remember that it means 'one who protects' and that it doesn't matter what others mistake it as, because I know that's who I am."

"A name that defines you, hmm?" Kisuke murmured.

Ichigo flushed slightly. "If it's all right, I'd like a name that can be perceived the same way, by changing the kanji of an existing word to mean something totally different."

"As a memento," stated Yoruichi.

Ichigo nodded silently.

"So, are we going to pick a word that sounds as stupid as 'strawberry'?" interrupted Hichigo, grinning broadly. "Ah, I know! How about Bakabuta?"

Ichigo twitched. "I will _not_ be named 'idiot pig'!" He could just see it. Aizen would probably keel over dead from laughing too hard instead of being skewered by Ichigo's zanpakutō.

"All right, all right, how about Yakisoba? It's even a type of food!" Hichigo continued, seemingly oblivious to Ichigo's growing ire.

"I will _not_ be named after fried noodles," snarled Ichigo.

"Then, do you want a fruit? What about Ringo?" Hichigo suggested happily.

Ichigo gritted his teeth. "Do I look like an apple to you?"

"No, but you don't look like a strawberry either, so I don't think your appearance matters," countered Hichigo.

"I think none of the elders will take him seriously if he's named 'apple'," interjected Yoruichi, though she was also grinning broadly. "How about a more sensible name?"

"But there are shinigami with names that can be equally ridiculous!" argued Hichigo, dancing out of Ichigo's reach just in case his King decided to turn violent.

"Oh yeah?" Ichigo retorted. "Give me an example then!"

"Like Hiyori!" Hichigo argued without missing a beat. "Her family name's _Sarugaki_, which makes for puns nearly as bad as 'strawberry' does!"

"In case you didn't notice, that's her surname, you dolt. She didn't choose to have a name that's homophonic to 'monkey brat'!" Ichigo snapped.

"Fine. Then what do you say about Hitsugaya Tōshirō?"

Ichigo blinked. "I fail to see what's so funny about that."

"Not by itself," Hichigo concurred, "but don't you think it's funny that his name says 'lion' instead of 'dragon' like his zanpakutō spirit? Male winter lion doesn't describe him at all."

Ichigo stared at Hichigo as though he had grown another head. "Then what do you want to call him? Male winter dragon? Tōryūrō is way too much of a tongue-twister to use as a name."

Hichigo pouted. "I was only going to suggest we rename him Tōshiro."

"If you want to name him 'white winter', baka, your grammar is failing," Ichigo groaned.

"I _know_ that! But Shirotō sounds stupid!" Hichigo snapped back.

"As amusing as it is to hear Hitsugaya-taichō's name dissected, can we get back to topic?" Kisuke interrupted.

Ichigo and Hichigo exchanged sheepish looks.

"Then… Ren?"

About to yell angrily at him again, Ichigo stopped and realised that for once it was actually a proper name. "It sounds like you're calling Renji but cut yourself off at the last moment. I'll never remember to respond to that name," Ichigo sighed.

"Right. No name that sounds like that of a friend's," agreed Hichigo.

"There's always Shizuka," proposed Yoruichi.

Ichigo stared. "Isn't that a girl's name?" He did not think Yoruichi would join Hichigo in coming up with stupid names, but then again with her one would never know.

"Actually, it can represent either gender," commented Isshin neutrally.

Ichigo scowled. "I think Byakuya's feminine enough for both of us."

"If you don't decide I'm going to name you Ichirō!" threatened Yoruichi.

Ichigo panicked. "I'm trying, I'm trying!"

"But he's not your first-born son," inserted Hichigo helpfully.

"He's my heir," smirked Yoruichi. "There isn't a difference."

"Then… then… Yūri?" Hichigo hastily suggested.

Ichigo instantly saw red. "Are you trying to condemn me to an eternity of yaoi/yuri jokes? _Are_ you?"

"Maybe?" Hichigo grinned cheekily, easily avoiding Ichigo's incensed swipes.

"As interesting as this discussion is, I don't think continuing it is going to be very helpful," decided Kisuke.

"That's it." Hichigo snapped his fingers. Everyone sent him odd looks.

"What?" Ichigo asked.

"What Kisuke-san just said. Continuation. It describes our situation perfectly and it's a male name."

"I suppose it does sound better than your _other_ suggestions so far," Ichigo mused. "And Tsuzuki isn't such a bad name."

"Then Tsuzuki it is!" announced Yoruichi cheerfully. "Now for the kanji…"

Everyone groaned.

"It has to be befitting of a noble," continued Yoruichi.

"Ano sa, Yoruichi-san, how does 'night one' sound like a noble's name?" asked Hichigo.

"The words are related to nature," replied Yoruichi easily.

"Aa, I see," Hichigo muttered. "Anyone has any nature-related words that they can throw out?"

"Wood," Isshin offered immediately.

"Bamboo," Ichigo added.

"Plum," murmured Yoruichi.

There was a pause as everyone tried to figure out how 'plum' could be a syllable in Tsuzuki.

Ichigo summed everyone's feelings up in one syllable. "Eh?"

"Well, I took the first word from the kanji form of 'plum rain'," explained Yoruichi.

"That's not a very common way of pronouncing that word," considered Kisuke.

Yoruichi waved a hand negligibly. "Minor details."

"All right, so we're taking the first syllable from 'tsuyoo'," decided Ichigo, already tired of the arguing. "What about the 'zuki' part?"

"First thing I can think of is bamboo."

"All right, 'plum' and 'bamboo' it is." Ichigo paused. "It actually sounds kind of good." To prove that point, he scratched the two words out on paper.

They stared at it. It actually did look like a noble's name, if no one stared too hard. Since he was supposedly a Rukongai resident brought in by Yoruichi, no one would look too hard.

"No violent objections?" Yoruichi checked just in case. There were none. "Then welcome to the clan, Shihōin Tsuzuki!"

"Yosh, you're up next, Hichigo-kun!" cheered Kisuke.

The newly-dubbed Tsuzuki grinned evilly. Hichigo gulped.

"Shiroyuki!" called out Tsuzuki immediately.

Hichigo spluttered. "Did you – did you just call me Snow White?"

"You don't like it?" Tsuzuki mock-pouted.

"Of course not!" yelled Hichigo, all composure lost.

"True," interjected Kisuke, "he would totally ruin the image of a princess in distress."

Hichigo could not decide between looking thankful at the rescue and looking murderous at the slight, settling for a scowl instead. "Whatever."

"What about just sticking with Shirosaki?" suggested Isshin.

Hichigo winced. "I refuse to have the word 'white' in my name. I can already see Ukitake-taichō bringing me baskets filled with sweets." He shuddered.

"But that's only because Tōshirō shares the last kanji word of his name with Ukitake-taichō," objected Tsuzuki.

"He bounces around calling Tōshirō 'Shiro-chan'!" exclaimed Hichigo. "I don't think one missing character is going to make much of a difference to him!"

"It looks like you're set on the theme of white," observed Isshin neutrally, neatly derailing a rant about insanely bubbly shinigami.

Hichigo tilted his head thoughtfully. "It kind of fits me even now, don't you agree?"

Tsuzuki frowned. "Perhaps? So, to follow the theme of white but not use the actual colour itself, how about Ginmaru?"

Hichigo stared at him in horror. "You want me to answer to a name that sounds like you ripped it off Ichimaru Gin?"

Tsuzuki grimaced with Hichigo. "All right, no using the colour 'silver' either. The only other white thing I can think of is snow."

"Yukitō?" offered Yoruichi.

"What the hell is a 'snow peach'?" demanded Hichigo.

"Then, Yukito?" persisted Yoruichi.

"I'm not trying to become a noble! There's no way I'm answering to 'snow rabbit'!" complained Hichigo.

"Or we could give you a Spanish name," mused Kisuke.

"No way!" Hichigo yelped. "I'm no longer an Arrancar, remember?"

"Good point," Kisuke conceded. Then the evil glint was back. "So if you ever get Hollowfied can I name the Arrancar?"

Hichigo made a noise that sounded oddly like a yelp of terror. _'Help me, King!'_

Tsuzuki snickered, but complied with the request. "Or how about we go with the normal name Yukimaru?"

There was a sudden silence as everyone ran out of objections.

"Fine," groused Hichigo.

"You still need a family name," reminded Isshin.

About to open his mouth to reel off a long list of classmates' family names, Tsuzuki was beaten by Hichigo. "Umanose," he stated confidently.

Kisuke sweatdropped. "You want to name yourself 'horseback'?"

Yukimaru glared. "I want a new name that I can call my own, but that doesn't mean I'll forget what I'm doing here." He sobered, gaze turning inward. "I recognise that we may have to wait a long time for our chance to kill Aizen, but this doesn't mean I'll ever forget our goal." He looked up fiercely, locking gazes with a startled Tsuzuki. "I'll never forget that once a long time ago I was nothing more than your Horse, King."

Tsuzuki was suddenly reminded of the time there had been a crazy shinigami on the loose. The difference was that the shinigami had somehow managed to fuse with his zanpakutō, hence gaining a more powerful bankai form than what most could achieve.

Renji was dispatched to the real world to take care of the rogue shinigami. The annoying pineapple-head had dropped in through Tsuzuki's window late one night, and proceeded to make himself at home.

"Was it because you need my help that you dropped by?" In a rare burst of insight, Tsuzuki had asked.

Renji had scowled and turned away. "It's not like that," he had protested quietly.

"Then, why?" Tsuzuki had pressed.

Renji had turned back to face him, cheeks pink. "Uh, I just dropped by to see your face," he muttered.

Tsuzuki chuckled mentally. That was Renji all right, never asking for help out loud even if the redhead himself knew that he needed aid.

Yukimaru could act so much like Renji sometimes. The only difference was that Renji was dead, but Hichigo – _Yukimaru_ – was right there beside him.

The mental equivalent of a shove jolted Tsuzuki back to the present. "Baka," he managed to retort weakly. "We're konsōshi, remember? How will you ever forget who you had been when I'll always be in your head?"

Yoruichi smiled. "Well then, Shihōin Tsuzuki and Umanose Yukimaru, welcome to Seireitei!"

**Author's Note: This was written **_**before**_** Kubo revealed Gin's eye colour, thank you.**

**Quote by Renji taken from Bleach: Sealed Sword Frenzy OVA.**

**Sorry about the lack of action up to now. However, I am of the opinion that if you have a tactical genius (which is Kubo's idea not mine), an infiltration specialist, a man intelligent enough to be a doctor (possibly with no formal schooling since he was never 'born' in the real world) and his son who happens to be smart enough to instinctively grasp concepts and score well academically (in terms of school ranking) despite spending much of his time fighting bullies – it would be such a shame to rush into things and mess them all up. That being said, most of the groundwork has been covered in this chapter so things will finally start moving along now.**


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Soifon's confusion! New addition to the Shih****ōin Clan**

"So, here's the plan," declared Yoruichi. "I'll take Tsuzuki. Isshin, you get Yukimaru into Rukongai. Kisuke, you stay here and develop your poison. Any objections?"

There was a unanimous negative answer.

Kisuke smirked. "I think I'll improve on one of Szayel's more interesting formulae."

"You do that," Yoruichi agreed quickly, retreating rapidly out of the door. "I'm just going now."

'_You ought to follow me before he blows anything up,'_ she broadcasted mentally.

Startled by the sudden appearance of another voice in his head, Tsuzuki stumbled and found himself facedown on the cold laboratory floor.

Yukimaru, being the loving twin brother he was supposed to be, pointed at Tsuzuki's prone form and proceeded to laugh his head off. Tsuzuki growled, reached out with a tendril of reiatsu, and _jerked_.

Abruptly, Yukimaru found himself joining Tsuzuki in kissing the ground. "Aibō!" he yelped. Tsuzuki smirked in satisfaction.

"Now, now, little brats," Yoruichi lectured, arms akimbo. "Behave yourselves!"

Tsuzuki flailed. "I'm not a brat!" he yelled.

"You're acting like one though," teased Kisuke, offering them both hands up.

Scowling, Tsuzuki nevertheless took the proffered hand. "Let's go," he sniffed haughtily, turning to march out of the door.

Yoruichi cracked up at the sight. "You look exactly like Byakuya-bo!" she crowed. A vein ticked in Tsuzuki's forehead as he continued on his way out, ignoring her. Putting one hand on the door, he swung it outwards.

It was _bright_. Bringing up a hand to shield his eyes, Tsuzuki squinted.

"Tsuuu-zuu-kiii!" Without even consciously thinking, Tsuzuki did a shunpo to the side. Isshin promptly overshot his target and landed face-first in the dirt.

"What is your problem, oyaji!" he screeched instinctively.

Isshin grinned sheepishly up at him. "Just wanted to do that one last time," he murmured wistfully. "But my prodigal son has learned well!" he yelled, giving Tsuzuki a thumbs-up sign.

Sometimes, Tsuzuki seriously doubted if the persona of the idiotic father was really a façade. Maybe Isshin was actually pretending to be intelligent instead of the other way around. After all, most shinigami after a certain age have a few screws loose in their heads. "Then you should have yelled 'Ichigo' instead," he commented instead.

Isshin got up, dusting himself off. "The sooner you get used to your new name, the better, _Shihōin_ Tsuzuki," he explained, seeming to gaze at nothing in particular. A shadow of a pensive smile flitted across his face, and Tsuzuki knew without a doubt his father was remembering the child Ichigo had been. With a start he realised what the older man was doing.

Isshin was letting his son go. Tsuzuki tried to imagine letting Karin or Yuzu go off on a dangerous mission – even if he knew they were powerful – and found that he could not. There was always that tiny bit left in him that wanted them safe, wanted to protect them, because he was _responsible_ for them. Because they were his family. He could hear his father's voice echoing in his head, the day young Ichigo asked why his father never blamed the child for his mother's death. "The woman I loved gave her life to protect you," his father had answered plainly.

Right now, to let him enter into a dangerous undercover mission… Isshin probably felt as though he was betraying Masaki. His mother had wanted to save her son Kurosaki Ichigo, and now he was denied even his birth name. If Kurosaki Ichigo was erased and replaced with Shihōin Tsuzuki, there would be nothing left of her sacrifice.

Tsuzuki knew he was impulsive, but his next decision astonished even him. "It's Shihōin Kurosaki Tsuzuki," he corrected instantly, somehow, _somehow_ realising that it was what he wanted to do. He wanted to remain a Kurosaki even after being inducted into the Shihōin Clan, he wanted to remain his son. Her son.

Isshin stared. "Only the sōtaichō has three words in his name." His voice trembled, but only slightly.

Tsuzuki shrugged. He would not go back on his word. "The middle part will only be used in private," he promised, his eyes glittering with emotions he could not voice.

Isshin smiled softly, a true smile instead of the blinding grin he wore as a mask, and clapped Tsuzuki on the back. _'Good luck, Ichigo.'_

Tsuzuki gaped at his biological father. He had not even _felt_ Isshin move behind him. Having caught the prize student of the Goddess of Flash unaware, Isshin simply winked. Tsuzuki mentally re-evaluated his opinion of his father. Definitely not an idiot.

Well, maybe just a sentimental one.

… … … … …

"So, where are we going?" Yukimaru asked, slightly impatient. He had wanted to wander around Rukongai until he found a district he liked, preferably a higher-ranked one, but Isshin seemed to have a destination in mind.

"You'll see," Isshin replied cryptically, flitting across the rooftops at a speed too high for any non-seated shinigami to detect. To avoid being stopped by those who do catch sight of them, the duo had suppressed their reiatsu to such a point that even a Third Seat would have trouble sensing them. Any lucky fukutaichō on his rounds would probably write them off as a hallucination – and if they did run into any taichō, well, it was up to Isshin to explain away Yukimaru's presence. That was what Isshin had planned to do, anyway. If that actually happened, Yukimaru planned to run like hell.

As a student of the Goddess of Flash, it would take Soifon herself to have a chance to catch him.

"We're here." Isshin stopped. Yukimaru checked the district number. Sixty-four. At least it was reasonably dangerous. He would have preferred somewhere in the seventies or even eighty, but he supposed that he could always 'accidentally' wander off after Isshin left.

Isshin smiled nostalgically. "There she is."

_She?_ Yukimaru followed Isshin's gaze, frowning. His eyes widened when he realised just _who_ Isshin was talking about.

A woman was walking out of a store, smiling as she tucked a bag of groceries under her arm. As she turned to walk away in the opposite direction, he could clearly see the orange curls cascading down her back. The sight was so achingly famliar that Yukimaru temporarily forgot how to breathe.

Kurosaki Masaki. Ichigo's mother.

Standing beside him, Isshin made a choked noise that sounded susiciously like a sob. Awkwardly, Yukimaru stared in the opposite direction, pretending he had not heard the sound and trying to will his own eyes to stay dry. It had been so long…

He was so immersed in his thoughts that he almost missed it when a burly man blocked Masaki's path. He did, however, notice when Isshin's reiatsu flared up slightly. Only slightly, but they were standing so close to each other that Yukimaru could hardly miss the change in the other's demeanor. He turned his attention back to the woman – his _mother_ – and his eyes instantly hardened.

A hand caught his arm before he could move. _'Wait,'_ Isshin stated calmly. Yukimaru hesitated, but relaxed his posture. Isshin knew Masaki better that he did and loved her more than life itself; if Isshin was not about to interfere, neither would he.

Down in the street, Masaki had stopped and was watching the man blocking her path calmly. The streets had wisely emptied, leaving them alone.

Without exchanging any pleasantries, the burly gangster lunged for the food. Yukimaru's eyes widened. Rukia and Renji barely spoke of their time in Rukongai, so while he was aware that the demand for food far outstripped the supply, he had no idea it was that bad.

Masaki sidestepped easily, the bag of groceries safe under her arm, and twisted out of the way of another effort to relieve her of her purchase.

Yukimaru stared. He had no idea Ichigo's mother – _his_ mother – could hold her own in a fight.

"Trust me," Isshin spoke quietly, eyes glued to the scene unfolding in the street below them, "if she had been only some noble's pampered daughter, I would never have fallen in love with her."

"Don't make me hurt you, _woman_," the gangster snarled impatiently.

She gazed coolly back. "You can't," she informed him. His eyes narrowed at the implied insult and his next attack was not aimed at the precious food, but at her. Masaki frowned, ducking the clumsy punches thrown her way, but did not retaliate. Frustrated at his inability to hit her, the gangster charged. Without pausing, Masaki shifted her position and stuck out a leg. He flailed as he tripped, hitting his head on the ground and letting out a yell of pain.

That seemed to be the signal the rest of the gang was waiting for, as several more menacing figures sauntered out into the deserted street. The biggest one, obviously the gang leader from his dressing, sneered and stepped forward while the rest fanned out to surround Masaki.

Isshin dropped his restraining hand from Yukimaru's arm. Not needing any more encouragement, Yukimaru hopped off the roof into a side alley and came barrelling out before the gang leader could even open his mouth. "Hey!" he yelled. "What kind of cowards are you to gang up on a lady?"

For a moment the bandits stood, stunned at the direct challenge. Masaki pursed her lips worriedly, but did not warn him to stay away, trusting the newcomer to know what he was doing. Yukimaru appreciated it. It was the sixty-fourth district, one did not stay alive by interfering in fights they could not win, and Masaki knew she was clearly outnumbered.

Slowly, the gang leader turned to face him. At a slight gesture, the nearest two attacked. Yukimaru jumped over the first punch, using his momentum to kick the first one in the face and immediately ducking to avoid the second one from sneaking up on him. He effortlessly dispatched his other opponent, returning the gang leader's shrewd look with his own.

Out of all the gangs in Rukongai, the most prominent were those created as a direct result of the food shortage. With no money in the districts to support a black market, the more impoverished resorted to stealing, often in groups. Leaders of such gangs were elected mainly based on their ability to keep the gang members fed, which indicated at least a modicum of intelligence.

By not attacking save in self-defence, Yukimaru had made his intentions clear. _Leave me alone, and I will leave you alone._

The leader's eyes flickered to the two members down for the count and not likely to wake up soon. Yukimaru could almost hear his thoughts. An opponent who could easily take out two men twice his size in a few seconds was a dangerous one. As long as Yukimaru did not openly provoke the gang, the leader would not put more members at risk.

With a terse nod, the leader indicated that the others stand down. Two other gangsters moved forward to haul the two unconscious men onto their shoulders, and together the group disappeared down the street.

"Are you all right?" Yukimaru asked, extending a hand to help Masaki to her feet, the bag of groceries still miraculously under her arm.

"Yes, thank you," she replied quietly, studying his face intently. "I've never seen you before. Are you new?"

Yukimaru nodded, pretending to look apprehensive. "I just got here. I have no idea what's going on, but I couldn't just watch you get attacked." He blinked large eyes up at her. "What am I going to do now?"

Masaki's gaze softened. "You poor boy," she muttered, motherly instincts taking over at the pleading look. She gazed at him ponderingly, before seeming to come to a decision. "Come on, you can stay with me."

"Really?" Yukimaru asked, but inside he was giddy with joy. His mother just asked him to live with her. Granted, she had no idea she was really his mother – well, all right, she was Ichigo's mother, but he was part of Ichigo too once upon a time and surely that meant she was his mother too.

He was going to live with his _mother_.

Masaki smiled down at him, the warm smile he was so used to seeing in Ichigo's memories. "Yes, of course. If you help around the house I don't see why you can't stay."

He glanced up and smiled at Isshin, finally – _finally_ – understanding why the older shinigami had brought him there. _'Don't worry, I'll protect her.'_

Isshin nodded once back, face solemn, before disappearing in a blur of shunpo.

… … … … …

No sooner had Tsuzuki set foot in the Shihōin Clan grounds than a blur appeared out of nowhere. "Yoruichi-sama!" gasped a very alive, and very young Soifon, throwing herself at her mentor. Tsuzuki jerked on reflex, staring at her in wide-eyed fascination. He had never seen Soifon so _young_ before.

The girl smiled up at her mentor, sending jolts of pain through Tsuzuki's heart as her image overlapped with that of her older self, no less eager to please her mentor.

Sometimes, he wondered if Yoruichi ever regretted leaving Soifon behind. Maybe Yoruichi had thought she was letting Soifon step out of her shadow and into her own right, but she could not have predicted all that drove Soifon to do was to try to fill shoes too large for her. Goddess of Flash, the Flash Cry technique, leader of the Stealth Corps, Second Division taichō… Soifon did nothing Yoruichi did not do.

Sometimes, he wondered what might have happened if Yoruichi brought Soifon with her, the night they all left Soul Society.

And then, inevitably, those eyes caught sight of him. Tsuzuki mentally sighed as Soifon's eyes narrowed, letting go of her mentor. "Who are you?" she demanded, scowling. Without waiting for an answer, she turned to Yoruichi. "What is _he_ doing here?"

Tsuzuki stared at the girl – hardly any older than him in appearance – and had to suddenly fight the urge to guffaw. Soifon was _alive_. Soifon, who had taken a zanpakutō meant for Yoruichi directly in the chest. In fact, everyone was alive. Ukitake-taichō, Kyōraku-taichō, Byakuya, Gin, Shinji… everyone was still there.

It was one thing to know that intellectually, but it was quite another when faced with a living reminder of what the war had cost all of them. To think, he was given another chance to get everything right. This time, nobody would die, not if he could help it.

Even if Soifon was glaring at him for daring to ignore her question. Without warning, the girl vanished with a whisper of reiatsu, forcing Tsuzuki to react instinctively by ducking out of the way as a fist smashed into where his face had been a moment ago. Soifon would be a formidable opponent in the future, but right now compared to him she was simply an amateur.

Tsuzuki skidded backwards to avoid another punch, looking towards Yoruichi for help. He had no wish of hurting her protége by accident. To his surprise, she tilted her head much like a cat might do and gestured him to go ahead.

The next time Soifon blurred out of focus, Tsuzuki grabbed the arm headed his way. Soifon barely paused, using his hold as leverage to kick out at Tsuzuki's midsection. He casually blocked the hit with his other arm, channelling a slight bit of reiatsu into it to cushion the blow. His opponent paused, scowling minutely and shooting him a calculating glance.

With what was undoubtedly reiatsu-enhanced strength, Soifon wrenched backwards the arm he had captive, at the same time using the momentum to flip into a one-handed handstand and kicking out both legs at him. Tsuzuki leant backwards, releasing her arm right before she could pull away and causing Soifon to overbalance and land in an undignified sprawl on the ground.

"You fight well," Tsuzuki offered, letting no emotion but respect and perhaps some of his joy at seeing her again show in his eyes.

Soifon blinked, stunned. "Yoruichi-sama, who is he?" she addressed Yoruichi, clambering to her feet.

Yoruichi smirked. "Remember how the council is bugging me to get an heir? I found one."

Soifon spluttered.

… … … … …

"So this is the boy," murmured one of the old men lining the tables in the council chamber. Yoruichi had wasted no time in calling a council meeting, an oddly-subdued Soifon tagging behind them the entire way.

'_I would have thought Soifon of all people would object to your decision,'_ remarked Tsuzuki as Soifon, rather stiffly, gave an overview of Tsuzuki's skills from her point of view.

Yoruichi sent him a beatific smirk. _'You defeated her in a hakuda spar. She certainly has no objection to your skills.'_

'_But she was holding back,'_ argued Tsuzuki.

Yoruichi rolled her eyes. _'She was testing your skills, not trying to kill you. You showed that you have the potential to surpass her without any hint of arrogance, and that won her respect.'_

'_And the fact that you were the one to recommend me had nothing to do with it?'_ Tsuzuki asked in disbelief. Soifon had been against him for as long as he could remember, because of both his blatant disregard for authority and his tutelage under her mentor. He found it hard to believe that all it took to change that first impression was a spar and a compliment.

'_Hardly.'_ A hint of a teasing tone entered her mental voice. _'She protested Kisuke's promotion to taichō for months.'_

The murmurings of the council finally died down after Soifon's reluctant assessment of his skills as 'impressive'. Tsuzuki raised an eyebrow at the compliment she returned. As the head of the Fong retainer house, her words carried a lot of weight in the council. He was starting to understand why Yoruichi had asked him to spar to leave a first impression – had counted on Soifon challenging him, even. He wondered exactly how manipulative his mentor could be. Still, if that allowed the council to accept him faster, he had no qualms with the methods used.

"And therefore," Yoruichi concluded her persuasive speech, "I would like to adopt him as my heir."

There was an instant outcry from a few of the members, but after the strong recommendation from both Yoruichi and Soifon the majority seemed willing to at least withhold their judgement for the moment.

"I would like a demonstration of his skills before I make my decision," declared one of the eldest men present, seated at a place of honour.

Yoruichi bowed. "Hai, otō-sama." Tsuzuki's eyebrows shot up in surprise. If he managed to win over the former clan head, his job might become a lot easier. At a gesture from Yoruichi he stepped forwards, determined to do his best.

"Flare your reiatsu," she instructed. _'Remember, only the level of a fukutaich__ō.'_ Obediently, he followed suit, letting a trickle of reiatsu escape from his tightly-compressed reserves. The council members exchanged looks of curiosity and even some of the vehement protestors were looking interested. Tsuzuki had no doubt there were several silent discussions going on about him.

"Soifon, please come over," Yoruichi called. "This is your opponent. Hakuda and hohō only. Begin!"

It was a demonstration of his ability, not Soifon's, and Tsuzuki reacted accordingly. At once, he shot forward, adding just a slight touch of reiatsu to his steps to turn it into a slow shunpo. Soifon blocked his initial barrage of attacks, returning a roundhouse kick. Tsuzuki smoothly kicked into a faster shunpo, blurring and reappearing behind her. Soifon's eyes widened at the sudden display of speed, automatically dodging and sending him a reiatsu-enhanced punch. As before, Tsuzuki grabbed her arm, but this time used her momentum and surprise to toss her in a judo throw over his shoulder. He pinned her to the ground, looking up at Yoruichi for further guidance.

Yoruichi nodded in approval, so he offered Soifon a hand up. His opponent took it, face again blank of emotions. "Was that to your satisfaction?" Yoruichi asked the council.

An elder woman occupying another seat of honour spoke up. "What about his skills at zanjutsu and kidō?"

Tsuzuki frowned. How could a Rukongai stray know anything about kidō? It was obviously a ploy to deny Yoruichi's request.

Lost in his musings, he missed the shadow of a smirk on Yoruichi's face. Only his finely-tuned senses warned him of an incoming object aimed for his head, and he snatched the… wooden bokken? – out of midair.

"This was his weapon when I found him," announced Yoruichi. Tsuzuki tried to school his face from showing his surprise. Where did she even get that bokken from? As if hearing his unvoiced question, Yoruichi added, _'Kisuke.'_

Damn that man for thinking of _everything_.

"Show them a kata," his mentor instructed again, and Tsuzuki settled into the basic one he had developed for Tensa Zangetsu, realising as he did so why she wanted the council to see it. His bankai was built for speed and agility, and his katas reflected that. Perfect for a member of the Shihōin Clan and potential leader of the Stealth Corps, which specialised in assassinations.

Another point to his favour.

"Now imitate this," Yoruichi informed him when he was done, and Tsuzuki could not help but stare. She could not really be testing his _kidō_ skills, could she? "Push as little reiatsu as you can into your hand, and repeat after me." Apparently, she could.

"Ye lord! Mask of blood and flesh, all creation, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Inferno and pandemonium, the sea barrier surges, march on to the south! Shakkahō!" he cried, doing his best to control the level of reiatsu in his palm. He was so close, he had no idea what Yoruichi was thinking but if she wanted him to demonstrate kidō there was obviously a very good reason for it, and he was going to do his damned best not to fail her.

Yoruichi's kidō spell punched a perfectly round hole in the far wall, whereas his blasted off a jagged chunk of wood. Tsuzuki winced. At least it was in the direction he aimed in and the damage was mostly contained.

"You say he is uninstructed in the ways of the shinigami?" clarified Yoruichi's father, leaning forward to scrutinise him.

"Yes. He is simply a very fast learner and able to adapt quickly," she explained.

Tsuzuki gaped, barely remembering to ensure his mouth did not drop open in shock. The conniving cat! Instead of declaring that he knew nothing of kidō – which everyone present was obviously already aware of – she turned it to his advantage by allowing them to witness what was – to their knowledge – his first attempt at a kidō spell and to see first-hand his ability to pick up new things.

'_Theoretically, I wasn't lying about your learning curve,'_ commented Yoruichi smugly as they waited in silence for the verdict. _'Your zanjutsu and hohō skills speak for themselves. Your problem with kidō is simply a case of too much reiatsu and too little control.'_

The council had little to debate over, it being obvious that most of the elders had been won over by the astonishing display.

"We have made our choice. What is your name?" Yoruichi's father inquired.

And finally, it was Tsuzuki's turn to open his mouth – for the first time since he left the underground training grounds. "Tsuzuki, Shihōin-sama," he spoke quietly but clearly.

The former clan head nodded amiably. "Then I welcome you to the clan, Shihōin Tsuzuki."

Tsuzuki forced himself into a formal ninety-degree bow. "Thank you very much, Shihōin-sama!" he gasped out, imitating Rukia's tone whenever she spoke to an authority.

Yoruichi beamed in approval.

… … … … …

Tsuzuki threw himself onto the futon, exhausted. After his acceptance into the clan, Yoruichi had wasted no time in giving him the grand tour of the main Clan Manor and a brief introduction of the grounds. His lessons, as she informed him with an evil grin, would begin the very next day.

Clan politics. Joy.

In the quiet of his room, he sank into his mind and searched for the elusive red ribbon that represented his twin brother.

'_Hello?'_ Even after using reiatsu to communicate for most of the day, he still could not get used to simply stretching out and _feeling_ the other, especially when the other was not within sight. There was a pause, and then there was sensation of _connection_, as though a receiver was picked up.

'_I met your mother today,'_ began Yukimaru without preamble.

Tsuzuki stopped. _'What?'_ he asked in disbelief.

'_I met your mother today,'_ repeated Yukimaru calmly. _'Well, our mother.'_

There was a stunned silence as Tsuzuki tried to process what he had heard. Yukimaru could not mean…

'_Where? How?' _he spluttered.

Yukimaru settled for the brief version. _'Where? Sixty-fourth district of North Rukongai. How? Oyaji brought me there and I saved her from a gang.'_

There were so many questions in Tsuzuki's head that he could scarcely begin to ask them all. He settled for the simplest. _'How is she?'_

The shadow of a smile flitted across their shared mind. _'She's great. In fact, she just adopted me into her family.'_

His twin's mood was infectious. A matching smile blossomed over Tsuzuki's face as he listened to Yukimaru prattle on about his – well, their, it was going to take a while for that to sink in – mother.

'_How's it going on your side?'_

'_I got accepted by the clan. Yoruichi-san's really sneaky when she tries, you know?'_ And he launched into a description of how she somehow managed to win both Soifon and her father to his side.

'_Yoruichi-nee-sama, you mean?' _teased Yukimaru lightly, and Tsuzuki laughed.

Perhaps this new life would not be that bad after all.


	5. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: ****A huge thanks to IceBlueFoxFire, who has drawn fanart for this story! Link to the picture can now be found on my profile.**

**Chapter 4: Pride of the Shihōin! Heir of the clan**

Four years. Four years when he bided his time, and learnt. Kurosaki Ichigo was a hotheaded teenager who charged right into the thick of things, without bothering to take note of the situation beforehand. Aizen ha ensnared _that_ Ichigo within his trap, skilfully manipulating the teenager, crushing him at every opportunity and forcing him to watch as one by one, his allies – his _friends_ – fell.

Shihōin Tsuzuki was determined to make a difference.

So he learnt. He learnt about Aizen's track record, about how his nemesis studied, achieved, and excelled. He learnt about how Aizen secretly practised, honing his skills with Kyōka Suigetsu, until they were on par with a taichō's connection to his blade. Above all, he learnt all that Yoruichi, Kisuke and Isshin had to taught him, and forged his own path in the wake of that.

Isshin honed his zankō skills, until Tsuzuki learnt to develop his own style.

Yoruichi trained his hohō and hakuda, in the true manner of the Onmitsukidō, until he could count himself as one of them with pride.

And Kisuke, in true cryptical Urahara fashion, gave him not a combat skill, but the gift of patience.

The patience to consider a situation before rushing in.

The patience to circle around an opponent until the other made a mistake.

The patience to train himself, and wait.

Four long years.

He was finally ready.

… … … … … … …

A tornado of reiatsu met an equally strong tsunami. Two forces of nature collided, again and again, each determined to crush the other. When it was all over, twin figures lay upon the obsidian ground, grinning at each other breathlessly.

Tsuzuki opened his eyes.

"You were leaking reiatsu again," remarked Yoruichi in cat form, perched on his bedside table. A softly pulsing kidō barrier surrounded his bed. Even as he watched, a tendril of reiatsu escaped his body, only to crash into the barrier and was absorbed by it.

Tsuzuki sat up and winced at the sight. "I apologise, nee-sama. Yukimaru wished for a spar with shikai activated."

Yoruichi nodded, smoothly shifting to human form and dismissing the kidō spell with a wave of her hand. "This is becoming a frequent occurrence," she stated calmly, no trace of anger in her voice.

"Hai, nee-sama," Tsuzuki answered quietly, head bowed respectfully.

'_Is the repressor not functioning?'_ she asked, mindful of the thin walls.

Tsuzuki was so used to her switching between methods of speaking that he did not even flinch. _'No,'_ he hesitated.

'_Speak,'_ Yoruichi urged.

'_It appears that my reiatsu reserves are expanding, if that is even possible,'_ Tsuzuki told her, feeling his conclusion was rather ridiculous. There had to be a limit as to how large his reserves could get, right?

Instead of laughing it off, Yoruichi only sighed out loud. _'It is possible. I'll contact Kisuke to design a new one. With capacity for exponential growth, this time.'_

Out loud, she added, "Get dressed and report at the Academy in two hours' time. Lessons are cancelled for the day."

The reiatsu repressor became a necessary addition after Tsuzuki lost control over his vast reserves just days after his induction into the clan. Upset by the initiation of a Rukongai resident into their prestigious clan, several younger members banded together to 'teach him a lesson', as they called it. In the middle of the night, they had sneaked into his room, hoping to catch him off guard.

It was by pure luck that Tsuzuki had expended a significant portion of his reserves in a spar with Yukimaru in their mindscape just the night before, and they had yet to refill. Startled awake when their proximity tripped off his reiatsu sensors – an ingrained habit after years in the war – he leapt off his futon only to see a few teenagers cowering, forced to the ground by his reiatsu pressure alone.

No one challenged him after that incident.

Yoruichi managed to smooth things over by explaining away the sudden rise in reiatsu level as a part of Tsuzuki's growth spurt induced by exposure to high concentrations of reiatsu, but it was evident that another slip-up would be potentially disastrous. Hours after the incident, Kisuke took another "poison-inventing" break to build Tsuzuki his first reiatsu repressor.

Being short on time – how Kisuke had managed to replicate Mayuri's invention in less than a day, Tsuzuki had no idea, but he was very grateful – the first repressor strongly resembled Zaraki Kenpachi's eyepatch. In fact, it was a patch, just one hidden within his hakama – and boy had that been uncomfortable. Subsequent ones saw improvements in leaps and bounds, from design to functionality.

Tsuzuki stripped off his sleep yukata, his gaze falling on the simple chain hanging around his neck. A pendant adorned with the Shihōin crest, this was the fifth repressor to date and the second one he could wear in public. Keyed to his reiatsu signature, the pendant siphoned any reiatsu above the preset level – it even had an adjustable preset level now – that might escape his control and stored the excess… somewhere. Kisuke was muttering about additional dimensions, and Tsuzuki had wisely decided that he really did not need to know so long as the repressor worked.

He only hoped Kisuke did not build the new repressor in the shape of something embarrassing this time, like that cat effigy he was threatening to do if Tsuzuki needed _another_ one. Oops.

… … … … … … …

Dressed as befitting a noble of his position, Tsuzuki adopted his best Byakuya – the future one, not the little brat he was now – impersonation and set off towards the Academy. He was met at the door by a portly, well-dressed old man.

"Good morning, I am Shihōin Tsuzuki, here to take the placement tests for the Academy." Tsuzuki bowed formally, hands clasped before him.

The old man smiled, bowing back in acknowledgement. "Good morning Shihōin Tsuzuki-san, I am Ōnabora Gengorō, Director of the Academy, and I will be conducting your placement tests for today. This way please."

Tsuzuki was led down a corridor, ending in an ornate dojo. Tatami mats were already laid out on the floor, and to his inward surprise there was already a crowd of spectators forming.

Yoruichi-nee-sama was an obvious figure, as were her Second Seat, Soifon and Third Seat, Kisuke. Isshin had told him that the Third Division taichō had wanted a representative, and therefore his father was beside them. Ginrei-taichō and Byakuya were probably there to observe the heir of a fellow Clan. What _was_ surprising, however, was the presence of a reasonable number of other division representatives, among them Kyōraku-taichō, Ukitake-taichō, and Unohana-taichō. And – Tsuzuki felt a chill go up his spine – Aizen Sōsuke himself.

Tsuzuki only heard Aizen vaguely as the other explained to a curious Kyōraku-taichō that Shinji – _Hirako-taichō_ – had asked him to observe the Shihōin heir's first debut in public. All that mattered was that Aizen was there, not to mention shinigami from at least seven divisions. He turned to face Ōnabora, resolved to put up a good show.

"First, we will be testing your skills in hakuda," Ōnabora explained as he dropped into a battle-ready stance. "Come!"

Tsuzuki instantly leapt into the air, springing for Ōnabora's stomach. The world narrowed down to a single focus as he spotted the minute tensing in Ōnabora's muscles just in time for him to avoid the knee snapping up towards his chin. Rolling his body sideways, Tsuzuki made a few quick jabs at Ōnabora's vital points, assessing his opponent. The exchange complete, he sprang back, bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet, thinking furiously.

Yoruichi smirked at the boy's performance. The fluid, almost unconscious grace Tsuzuki now fought with and the calculating gleam in his eye, so much unlike Ichigo's street brawl style, proved beyond a shadow of doubt that she was right in spotting the boy's potential. Though hakuda had hardly been Ichigo's weakness – years of karate lessons and being picked up by bullies had ensured that his style, while aesthetically unappealing, was at least effective – he was no match for masters such as Soifon.

Now, however… now Tsuzuki could give any of the Onmitsukidō a run for their money, save for perhaps Kisuke and herself.

Tsuzuki was now pressed on the defensive, Ōnabora pressing on relentlessly as the duo traded blows. Stepping back, Ōnabora inclined his head briefly, and disappeared in a whisper of air.

Tsuzuki snapped his head around, leg already extended to block Ōnabora's high kick as his arm snaked out in a lightning quick punch that Ōnabora barely avoided. Ōnabora's eyes widened as he felt a graze against his side even though no physical contact was made. His mental evaluation of the boy went up a few notches. So young yet already able to effectively concentrate reiatsu to a part of his body…

He had seen enough. "Stop."

Tsuzuki instantly pulled back his arm and stood at attention, breathing a little heavily but otherwise none the worse for wear.

"Next, zanjutsu."

Tsuzuki retrieved his wooden training bokken from the side of the dojo – the very one Kisuke had made for him four years ago, in fact, it was a miracle the abused piece of wood had not broken long ago – and settled into the beginning position of his first kata.

Ōnabora returned to the centre of the room with a standard bokken, the kind issued to all Academy students who had not discovered their zanpakutō spirits yet, and ran an appraising glance down the slim piece of wood in Tsuzuki's hands.

Tsuzuki smirked. Everybody underestimated Tensa Zangetsu simply because it was not _flashy_ or _big_. During the war, newly-minted Arrancar often swarmed him, believing him to relatively harmless as compared to the massive ice dragon or the gigantic coil that was Hihiō Zabimaru. They were soon proven wrong.

"Begin."

Instead of charging forward this time, Tsuzuki simply waited, eyes sweeping across Ōnabora's body. He could see that the examiner was confused at his behaviour, but opting to wait. It was up to him to make the first move.

A clash of bokken.

Ōnabora's eyes widened. Tsuzuki was fast, much faster than before, and on top of it he had not sensed a drop of reiatsu usage. Which meant… this was the boy's natural speed. Around them, the peanut gallery began chattering out loud. Tsuzuki vaguely heard Jyūshirō exclaiming.

They clashed bokken a few times, each straining to overpower the other, but neither succeeding. Finally Tsuzuki decided it was enough. Ōnabora's full concentration was on the boy standing before him, until he felt a light tap on his neck and turned his head to see Tsuzuki behind him. Unable to help himself, he gasped and snapped his head back, just in time to see the 'Tsuzuki' before him dispel.

"Way of Onmitsu, third of the Shihō: Utsusemi," state Tsuzuki calmly. He removed his bokken from Ōnabora's neck and stepped back, bowing deeply.

Astonished, Ōnabora could only bow back.

In the viewers' gallery, Yoruichi smirked and preened. Utsusemi, one of her own inventions, allowed for a movement at great speed, leaving an afterimage behind. She had once taught it to a much older Byakuya, but this time Tsuzuki would be her first student. It would not do for another clan to learn a Shihōin clan technique before the clan heir himself, of course,

'_Are you watching, Aizen Sōsuke?_' she thought to herself. Full of promise with a touch of headstrong attitude, Aizen's favourite combination.

'_Are you interested yet?_'

… … … … … … …

The kidō portion of the test took part in another area of the Academy, where there were a row of targets lined up.

"Perform any five Bakudō or Hadō spells on the targets, two of which must be Bakudō and another two Hadō," instructed Ōnabora.

Tsuzuki nodded to show his understanding. Yoruichi had discussed it at length with him, as even with the reiatsu repressor in place his control was shaky, and now without it… of all the days to break his reiatsu repressor. He gritted his teeth. He would have to try harder then. It was a good thing a significant portion of his reiatsu was already spent on the morning spar with Yukimaru, which was the very point of the spar in the first place.

Taking a deep breath, he incanted clearly, "Ye lord! Mask of flesh and bone, flutter of wings, ye who bears the name of Man! Truth and temperance, upon this sinless wall of dreams unleash but slightly the wrath of your claws! Hadō no sanjū-san, Sōkatsui!"

A wave of reiatsu enmanated from his outstretched palm, slamming into the target and completely obliterating it. Tsuzuki winced.

'_Rein it in a little more,_' Yoruichi suddenly adviced, her voice echoing in his head. Tsuzuki only outwardly blinked, already used to her random mental intrusions, and gathered his reiatsu once more.

"Disintegrate, you black dog of Rondanini! Look upon yourself with horror and then claw out your own throat! Bakudō no kyū, Geki!" Drawing the three symbols in the air, Tsuzuki's body briefly glowed red before the red energy engulfed the next hapless wooden target.

Glancing sideways, he spotted Ōnabora nodding slowly in approval, which bolstered his confidence to continue.

"Hadō no sanjū-ichi, Shakkahō!" An orb of crimson energy formed from his palm, and this time it was exactly the size he wanted it to be. Thank kami for small miracles. It blasted out from his palm and slammed dead centre into the wooden target, drilling through the bullseye and fizzing out on the other size. Inspecting the target cursorily, Tsuzuki smiled at the slightly charred edges of the hole he had created.

His next and last compulsory binding spell was one of Soifon's favourites, which she had rather reluctantly taught him. He would do her proud. "Bakudō no sanjū, Shitotsu Sansen!" He maneuvered the burst of crackling yellow reiatsu in his palm into the shape of an inverted yellow triangle, which in turn generated solidified energy in the shape of triangles from the three points of the inverted triangle. The spell flew forth, the solidified triangles slamming into place on three points of the wooden target, knocking it over.

His compulsory four kidō complete, Tsuzuki turned to the examiner. "I would like to request a barrier to demonstrate my last kidō."

Yoruichi's eyebrows shot up. So this was what Tsuzuki had in mind when he told her that he had an idea for his last kidō test, and specifically asked what levels of kidō should he realistically demonstrate. Of course. Having that much reiatsu, the few kidō Tsuzuki ever learnt during the war was to annihilate, annihilate, and annihilate some more. She did not think he even knew a single kidō spell under number fifty before he was thrown back in time.

Looking unruffled by the request – the boy had surprised him enough today – Ōnabora calmly incanted, "Bakudō no hachijū-ichi, Danku." A translucent barrier in the form of a large rectangular wall appeared, shielding the watchers.

The assorted shinigami widened their eyes as Tsuzuki began to chant. "Sprinkled on the bones of the beast! Sharp tower, red crystal, steel ring. Move and become the wind, stop and become the calm. The sound of warring spears fills the empty castle! Hadō no rokujū-san, Raikōhō!" He thrust his palm forth, towards the translucent barrier.

The wall of crackling yellow energy generated suddenly condensed into a lightning spear, sharpening and striking at the centre of the barrier with impossible speed and force. Ōnabora actually staggered backward from the onslaught.

Yoruichi smothered a smile. If they were impressed by a mere Raikōhō, they should have seen Ichigo's Hadō #88, Hiryugekizokushintenraiho. The size of a skyscraper, _that_ discharge of electrical and spiritual energy equivalent to that of a lower-ranked seated shinigami put even Tessai's best efforts to shame. No wonder it was Ichigo's favourite kidō. Too bad Tsuzuki could not perform that. She would have loved to see the looks on their faces.

Wiping his brow, Ōnabora stepped back and bowed. "Thank you very much, Shihōin Tsuzuki-san, I believe this test has adequately demonstrated your skill level, and there is no doubt you would do well in the First Class."

"Thank you very much," Tsuzuki replied, bowing back.

… … … … … … …

Kisuke was waiting for them in the hideout, smirking and tossing a parcel up and down. Upon noticing their approach, he threw the parcel to Tsuzuki, who barely managed to dive after it.

"So, Tsuzuki-bo, surely you _heard_ me when I told you not to break the repressor again, didn't you?"

Tsuzuki gulped at Kisuke's evil expression and unwrapped the parcel.

It was a hairband. With two cat-shaped ears.

Tsuzuki twitched. "WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?" he shrieked, the hairband dangling from his grasp as far away from him as possible, as though it was poisonous.

"Careful now, wouldn't want to break it, would you?" Kisuke admonished, smirking.

Yoruichi broke into guffaws, nearly crying with laughter as she pointed at the offensive item.

Kisuke practically sparkled. "You know, you're at that age whereby you're leaving home for the Academy, so don't you want a memento of your dearest _onee-sama_, who saved you from a life of hardship and abandonment in the streets of Rukongai?" He mimed wagging the cat ears.

Said onee-sama was now rolling around the floor in hysterical laughter, clutching her stomach.

Tsuzuki snarled, dropping the hairband and leaping for Kisuke's throat.

Still cackling, Kisuke blocked his lunge casually with one hand, using Tsuzuki's reiatsu-enhanced momentum to toss the boy over his shoulder. Tsuzuki landed in a handstand, legs already sweeping at Kisuke's upper body. Kisuke grabbed an ankle in midair, and _twisted_.

Instead of crying out in pain, Tsuzuki smoothly adapted his body to twist along with his leg, using Kisuke's hold as leverage to pull himself towards the other man, fists blazing with reiatsu. Kisuke's eyes widened, his other arm coming up to block against the fists, his own reiatsu levels rocketing in response. Despite cushioning the blow, the sting jarred his hold on Tsuzuki's leg, so much so that he had to let the boy go.

Tsuzuki sprang back in a ready stance, eyes burning with murder. He was shocked, therefore, when Kisuke threw his head back and began to laugh again. The only thing stopping him from strangling the man with his bare hands was that the laughter was not mocking this time. Frowning, Tsuzuki dropped his battle stance and waited for the duo to finish… expressing their merriment.

"You are still way too easy to tease," Kisuke snickered, finally getting his laughter under control.

Tsuzuki raised an eyebrow.

Still chortling lightly, Kisuke reached into his pocket – and withdrew another, smaller box. He opened the box to reveal a pendant identical to the one currently around Tsuzuki's neck.

"Then what the hell is that?" Tsuzuki yelled, pointing at the discarded hairband.

Kisuke stared at him as though he was mad. "A hairband with fluffy cat ears," the Third Seat informed him.

Yoruichi wandered over and picked it up. "I wonder if Soifon would like this?" she mused out loud.

Tsuzuki clapped a hand to his forehead. Grudgingly, he had to admit that they got him. "Then what's the point of the hairband?"

"To make you smile. Appreciate the fact that you're alive. Let _us_ appreciate the fact that you're alive," Yoruichi told him, and if not for the smile in her eyes Tsuzuki could almost believe she was dead serious.

"So, how many targets did he blow up during the kidō test?" Kisuke inquired casually.

Tsuzuki groaned as Yoruichi gleefully launched into an embellished tale of his Sōkatsui disaster.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Kidō, I hate you!**

"Class," announced Ōnabora calmly. "There will be a new student joining us today." He inclined his head towards Tsuzuki, who took it as his cue to step forward.

"My name is Shihōin Tsuzuki. Dozo yoroshiku." Tsuzuki executed a perfect forty-five degree bow, eyes sweeping in carefully feigned disinterest around the classroom. The First Class did indeed live up to its name, boasting students all with reiatsu levels around that of a seated officer's. Many students also already developed visible inclinations; one boy near the back, for instance, had built up lean wiry muscles for speed, visible even through his loose kosode. Not to mention his sudden interest in Tsuzuki the moment he gave his surname. He was clearly aiming for the Onmitsukidō.

His eyes alighted briefly on someone else he had not expected to see, before calmly moving on. Inside, however, his mind was whirring with possibilities. That opened up new possibilities…

"Please take a seat, Shihōin Tsuzuki-san," instructed Ōnabora.

Tsuzuki smoothly rose from his bow and strode forward confidently, inwardly smirking at his Byakuya imitation. Many of the students were practically _dazzling_ up at him, as though begging them to sit beside them. A pity there was no empty seat beside his new interest. Instead, Tsuzuki chose a seat beside the Onmitsukidō contender he had noticed earlier. For a moment, the boy seemed torn between squeaking in awed surprise and challenging him head-on. The corner of his lip quirked up, and he glanced at the other.

"What's your name?" he wrote on his notebook, tilting it towards the other boy.

After a long moment of hesitation, his seatmate scribbled two words on his own notebook. Kobayashi Akira. Hmm. He had never heard Yoruichi mention him before.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Akira-san." Tsuzuki smiled. Well, at least he was sure of one thing: Aizen had never tried to recruit this one before, for whatever reason. Yoruichi knew the names of everyone Aizen had ever been interested in, and Akira's had never come up.

He returned his attention to Ōnabora. It would not do for a Shihōin to be reprimanded for something as banal as talking in class, of course.

… … … … … … …

Tsuzuki wandered out of history class, deeply intrigued. This was not the boring, droning lecture he had been expecting when Yoruichi-nee-sama had forced him to sign up for the course. He sighed. Sometimes, he really wondered if that woman was just being sadistic, or whether she had a plan in mind. What did the history of Soul Society have to do with his goal anyway?

That was until he actually sat through his first history class.

Where others all too often saw mind-numbing boredom, Tsuzuki glimpsed potential.

As his physics teacher used to say, for every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction.

Aizen was a megalomaniac, drunk on power and twisted by a consuming desire for change. What could be greater inspiration for such a madman, than past events? Glorious battles. Senseless slaughter. Legal loopholes. Shortcuts and precedents. History was full of these little tidbits, if one knew how to carefully unravel the sugar-coated explanations they were fed.

It would take time, oh yes, but time was all he had. It didn't hurt that his twin was bored to death without something to do, either. Analysis might be a boring and probably thankless job, but Yukimaru had certainly not inherited Tsuzuki's brains for nothing. Really, it was a wonder nobody ever noticed that the "orange-haired delinquent" was ranked top five in academics, despite all the classes he missed.

That was the reasoning he would give Yukimaru, Tsuzuki decided. Of course, there was a much, much simpler reason why Yukimaru would be the one to pore over volumes of tiny print and notes taken in a nearly illegible hand: no matter how convinced he was about its necessity, history really was a very boring subject.

He snickered at the imagined look of abject horror on Yukimaru's face.

… … … … … … …

Tsuzuki sat placidly in a corner, turning a page of the book he was engrossed in. All around him, bokken clashed, and the sounds of fighting filled the air.

A clatter.

Tsuzuki glanced up as Akira collapsed beside him, wooden bokken dropped carelessly on the floor. The other boy fairly gasped for breath, beads of sweat dripping down his face. Groaning slightly, he raised one arm to wipe his face, though it was futile as his arm was equally drenched.

"Ne, Tsuzuki-san," panted Akira. "Why – aren't you – fighting?"

"I am exempted from zanjutsu, hakuda and hohō classes," he replied after a pause.

Akira stared back. "Why?"

Tsuzuki blinked at him. There was no envy he could detect in Akira's voice, just honest confusion. That was a surprise. Anyone – Tsuzuki himself included – would have been jealous of the special attention he received.

"I am trained in the way of the silent assassin, so most of my techniques are meant for single-strike kills," he answered calmly. "It would be too dangerous for me to spar with those without extensive training. As for hohō," and here a smirk flitted across his face, "I have already mastered the skill and have begun developing my own techniques."

"Ah, because your clan specialises in speed techniques, right?" Akira asked excitedly. "What is it like, being taught by the Goddess of Flash?"

Tsuzuki thought back to all the torment he suffered under Yoruichi's hands in the name of 'training', the number of times she beat new styles into his head, and the way she could still kick him around even after four years of intensive training. "Torture," he finally answered.

Akira stared at him, and then burst out laughing.

Tsuzuki raised an eyebrow at him. He was very proud of this skill, really. He practised in front of the mirror every day until he got it right.

"You have a sense of humour!" Akira snorted, practically rolling around the floor.

Tsuzuki gave into the desire to roll his eyes, which only made Akira laugh harder.

"I _did_ come from Rukongai, you know," he remarked drily.

Akira abruptly stopped chortling and gaped at him. "Really?"

It was Tsuzuki's turn to be surprised. "With the rumour mill the way it is, I'm surprised it's not common knowledge yet even in the Academy."

Akira shook his head slowly, still gaping at him – was that the beginning of awe he could decipher in the other boy's eyes? Tsuzuki mentally groaned, and groaned again out loud when Akira began begging him to share the story of his adoption.

… … … … … … …

Lunch. Finally.

Tsuzuki sighed quietly as he attempted to find a secluded spot for lunch. His new fan followed behind him, chattering non-stop all the while.

"Akira-kun," he finally interrupted. "Under that tree all right with you?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah, sure," the other replied, caught off guard in his monologue.

Rolling his eyes again, Tsuzuki made a beeline for the tree, pulled out his bento and snapped his chopsticks open. "Itadakimasu," he murmured, eyes closed.

When he opened his eyes, it was to the sight of a bedazzled Akira. "What is it _now_?" Tsuzuki griped.

"I've never seen so much food before," Akira whispered, staring at his packed lunch.

Tsuzuki blinked, and looked down at his bento. It was just curry rice with teriyaki chicken, nothing special. Even back when he was alive, Yuzu made that all the time. He frowned and closed one eye, calling up his twin's memories of Rukongai.

Images flashed behind his eyelid, and suddenly he understood Yukimaru's frequent off-handed comments about not having enough to eat.

"Want some?" he offered.

Akira looked quickly up at him. "You'd let me share your lunch?" he gasped quietly. It was that bad, huh. Mentally, he resolved to start sending Yukimaru care packages. Having the same amount of reiatsu as he did, his twin would need equally large portions of food – even more so, now that Tsuzuki's reserves were expanding and no doubt spilling over into Yukimaru's.

Tsuzuki nodded, tilting the bento and spooning some of its contents onto the lid. "Here you go."

"Arigatō!" With a cheer, Akira reached out a hand to take the offered portion.

Which was suddenly splattered on the ground.

The two looked up as shadows fell over them, seeing five older boys standing around them in a loose circle.

"May I help you?" Tsuzuki asked nonchalantly.

"We saw you earlier, just sitting at the side and reading. You didn't even try to pick up a bokken. I bet you're scared of fighting." The leader sneered.

Tsuzuki blinked. He was half-expecting someone to challenge him because of his status or accuse the teachers of favouritism, but he was not expecting to be named a coward for not fighting. Could they not see that he could kill them?

"Go home, scaredy-cat! We don't need anyone afraid of even a wooden sword here." One of the lackeys added, bending down to retrieve the throwing knife that had knocked over Akira's lunch.

Tsuzuki stared as the five of them got into fighting stances, probably meant to be threatening. Beside him, Akira was tense, but not overly worried. At least someone understood that any clan heir worth his salt would not have problems with some Academy students.

Incensed by the lack of response, the leader snarled and dove forward, intending to punch Tsuzuki in the face.

Tsuzuki sighed, and kicked out rapidly, sweeping his would-be assailant's legs out under him. The boy landed in an ungainly heap on the floor, the punch impacting the ground and causing minor fissures. Tsuzuki raised an eyebrow. Oh, he was good. Very good for a mere Academy student. Picture perfect form, probably unconsciously focusing his reiatsu into his fist for a more solid punch.

He raised an eyebrow at the other four boys, all of whom seemed a bit hesitant. Seeing the confusion in their eyes, Tsuzuki realised that he had moved too fast for them to see. To them, their leader had just fallen on the ground for no reason, making them just a bit more cautious than before.

Not cautious enough, apparently, as the four of them screamed their outrage and charged. Tsuzuki channeled enough reiatsu into his heel and palms to pivot himself rapidly to the side, still holding on to his bento, as the four of them collided in a heap and managed to start brawling amongst themselves.

Raising an eyebrow, Tsuzuki loosened the tight control over his reiatsu. All five boys collapsed instantly on the floor, quivering, their eyes wide with a hint of fright.

"I am Shihōin Tsuzuki, member of the Onmitsukidō. I am trained to _kill_, not wave around a huge-ass sword shouting about how much I want to beat someone up," Tsuzuki snapped. "That is why I do not participate in the practice matches. If I did, all of the First Class would have been dead within minutes."

Akira snorted quietly. "More like seconds," he coughed softly.

Reining in his reiatsu, Tsuzuki waited expectantly as they picked themselves up off the ground.

"We apologise, Shihōin-sama." The leader sketched a quick bow and beat a hasty retreat, the others not far behind.

"Sugei!" yelled Akira, stars in his eyes. "That was the most awesome thing I've ever seen!"

Taken aback, Tsuzuki stared. "Seriously?" he asked. "You're not… scared, or anything?"

"Why would I be?" Akira countered. "You won't hurt me. But speaking of which, can you please please _please_ teach me that move?"

"What would you do if I said no?" Tsuzuki asked.

Akira beamed back at him. "Pester you until you agree?"

Still stunned, Tsuzuki could only nod.

… … … … … … …

The only practical class Tsuzuki would be actively participating was, naturally, kidō. The epitome of control, and the bane of his existence.

Control his reiatsu? He shuddered at the thought. To a man who had never even seen his zanpakutō's sealed form before, the mere thought was preposterous. What was the point of having control, anyway. He much rather preferred things that went boom, such as his version of Hiryugekizokushintenraiho. Not a single Arrancar had stayed to watch the show the moment he let loose that super-charged display of pyrotechnics covering an almost impossibly wide area. The only ones to ever manage to escape his kidō were the ones who were nearest its edge, and the fastest at sonido. It got to the point when some Arrancar would flee at the sight of him holding up his hand.

Tsuzuki sighed. Ah, the good old days.

Lost in his reminiscing, Tsuzuki almost missed his cue as the person in front of him moved off from the target. Glancing around the class, he noticed that many students were unable to hit their targets. Very few, if any, seemed to have the problem he did. Stepping up to the line, he mentally prepared himself and went through the steps that had been drilled into his head.

First, he teased out a tendril of reiatsu from his core and wound it in a tight ball in his palm. Severing the thread of reiatsu to prevent excess leakage, he stabilised it by spinning it rapidly in his palm. Finally, he visualised a straight line between the ball and the target, and loosened his hold while speaking the words that helped him focus. "Hadō no sanjū-ichi, Shakkahō!"

It was only when the class burst into excited whispers that he looked up to see his own results. Realising the reason for the commotion, Tsuzuki winced. Well, at least he did not destroy the target.

Though he would probably have to pay to replace the wall behind it. And the wall behind that.

"A little less force next time please, Tsuzuki-san," Ōnabora told him drily.

Oops.

… … … … … … …

**Author's Notes:**

Had been busy, and then the abrupt end of the Winter War completely derailed my thought process. I actually had sat down to write, checked the latest Bleach storyline, and then stopped and gaped. As some of you may have known, my original goal was to follow the Bleach storyline as closely as possible, but clearly with the anti-climactic end of Aizen this is no longer possible. Given a choice between abandoning this story and going completely AU, I think both my readers and I will pick the latter option. Hence this chapter.

My thoughts on the Winter War: no one can ever complain that a portrayal of Ichigo in any fanfic is super-powered again. Compared to the original, everybody has an under-powered Ichigo. I don't think anyone can come up with an "Ichigo Hichigo + Zangetsu + Aizen + Hogyoku + hey-where's-that-mountain-that-was-over-there" (ref. final battle against Aizen), or an even more ridiculous "Ichigo = Rukia + Renji + Ikkaku + every-single-captain-left-in-Soul-Society + couple-of-Vizards-thrown-in-for-fun" (ref. how Ichigo got his shinigami powers back). Why don't they just crown him Soul King while they're at it. Why do they want to sacrifice a town for the King's Key anyway, Ichigo probably has enough reiatsu and have some left to spare. Aizen should have just asked and saved himself all that trouble.

Some of you have suggested my Ichigo is not really canon. I've never really understood why Kubo wants to stifle all that potential he has. Canon-Ichigo runs amok, waves around a huge-ass sword (note the reference in the story above), doesn't seem to possess a shred of skill (observe his moves - he only seems to have 2), charges blindly into battles without a scrap of information, and miraculously comes out alive when anyone else would have been dead. Look at that amazing move Hichigo pulled off once, where he twirled Zangetsu above his head and used it like a gigantic boomerang - why didn't we ever see that again? And isn't Ichigo supposed to be proficient in hand-to-hand combat? Why don't we ever see that happening? Why would ANYONE take a meat cleaver into a close-ranged fight against, say, Suzumebachi, where every inch of manoeuvrability counts? It boggles the mind.

Anyone who has a problem with my Ichigo, who actually uses hand-to-hand combat (mind you, Kubo was the one who said he was good at it), who has a brain (excuse me, TOP FIVE in his whole school while missing half his classes?), but who is still as loyal and a little careless and gung-ho as the Ichigo we fell in love with... you're welcome to find another fic.

For those of you who're sticking with this fic, I thank you for your patience, and promise the next chapter will be out as soon as I get inspiration for a few tricky parts. I had to invent an entire Academy syllabus, seeing that Kubo seems to have forgotten all about it (other than "Noooo, don't take Rukia away from me", "Noooo, I suck at kidou" and "Nooo, I'm being eaten by a Hollow").


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Release the Zanpakutō, thy name is...**

Predictably, Yukimaru threw a huge fit upon realising Tsuzuki was going to dump all his history homework on him. Many sharp pointy things were thrown in his direction. At least it improved his dodging skills, Tsuzuki reflected, as he attempted to side-step another attack with as much elegance as he could muster. He would never admit, of course, that he had long envied Byakuya's ability to look cool even under attack.

Yukimaru snorted. "If you've time to ponder about that stick-in-the-mud, I'm clearly not trying hard enough," he muttered.

Tsuzuki's musings were abruptly cut short when Yukimaru snarled wordlessly, raised his zanpakutō above his head, and began twirling it rapidly. Face paling rapidly, Tsuzuki brought his own zanpakutō up just in time to block a vicious aerial strike, the bandages wrapped around the handle of Yukimaru's zanpakutō allowing his owner to retrieve him like a gigantic boomerang.

Caught off-guard, Tsuzuki almost fell victim to a brutal kick aimed to possibly separate his head from his shoulders, as Yukimaru flitted forwards with a shunpo so fast his afterimage did not fade until after Tsuzuki had – barely – jerked out of the way at the last minute. The kick instead connected with his shoulder, throwing him backwards violently.

Skidding along the ground, Tsuzuki settled into his most solid defensive stance. Yukimaru did not disappoint, dashing forwards to press the advantage with wildly unpredictable swings mixed with abrupt bodily attacks wherever he sensed an opening.

Their blades locked, each seeking to overpower each other. True to his unpredictable nature, Yukimaru shifted his weight to the ball of his right foot and applied a sharp burst of reiatsu against the ground, using his sudden added momentum to pressure Tsuzuki's blade while his left leg came up, seeking to ram harshly into Tsuzuki's groin area.

Not to be outdone, Tsuzuki had jumped up the moment he sensed Yukimaru's reiatsu flare, briefly transferring his entire body weight to the zanpakutō still connected to Yukimaru's before tucking his legs in and using his own momentum to roll into a backflip in mid-air above Yukimaru's head.

Yukimaru recovered in an instant and was already on Tsuzuki by the time he turned around, jabbing with pointy elbows as much as he did his zanpakutō. Tsuzuki jerked one leg up, and then the other as Yukimaru's foot slid into the space where they had been previously. Leaping backwards, he barely avoided a sweeping kick with an inspired star-jump, crashing his zanpakutō against Yukimaru's and using the force to propel himself backwards.

Yukimaru did not follow. For a moment both gasped for breath, and then by some unspoken signal lowered their zanpakutō at the same time. "Your attacks are amazing," complimented Tsuzuki. "You kept me on my toes the entire time."

Yukimaru laughed, a real laugh this time. "Says the guy who can keep up with me. Just about anyone else would have been down right now, and yet you managed to evade every single one. It really inspires me to come up with new attacks."

Grinning broadly, Tsuzuki walked closer. In retrospect, he should have known what would happen.

The moment he came within range, Yukimaru kicked him abruptly in the shin. Hard. Tsuzuki yowled in pain, hopping up and down on one foot, and reflected ruefully that perhaps he did deserve that.

… … … … … … …

As he filed down the corridor with the rest of First Class, Tsuzuki could not help but feel a little excited. Finally, they were going to embark on a long-term project he had never had the chance to try before. Entering the laboratory, he eagerly stepped up to an empty workstation.

"Have you done this before?" whispered Akira beside him, looking as enthusiastic as Tsuzuki secretly felt. Shaking his head, Tsuzuki dipped his quill into his ink pot, scrawling their names carefully on the blank parchment affixed to the table in his best handwriting.

"All right, can one member from each workstation come up to collect your specimens," announced Ōnabora. Looking ecstatic, Akira almost ran to the front of the room, and returned carefully bearing a large glass jar. There was nary a flutter of black wings as he set the jar down slowly on the table top, a positive sign that he had not disturbed the pair of jigoku-chō nestled within.

"Phew, I didn't drop it," exhaled Akira, and Tsuzuki hid a smile at that.

Screwing the cap of the jar open gently, Tsuzuki reached in and cupped his hands around one of the butterflies. The paper-thin wings beat against his palm in agitation, before stilling as he sent soothing waves of reiatsu over it in slow pulses. Maintaining his tempo, Tsuzuki cautiously lifted it out of the jar, giving a nod for Akira to proceed to do the same with the other.

Once both jigoku-chō were out of the jar, Tsuzuki and Akira stared unblinkingly at each other, consciously slowing down their breathing patterns, while maintaining the pulses of reiatsu. Now came the most difficult part, and the part where most students failed at. Half-closing his eyes to better concentrate, Tsuzuki narrowed his focus. His world shrank to a bubble encompassing the workstation and Akira alone. Unconsciously, his breathing pattern shifted slightly to what they had practised countless times before in preparation for the class, and he felt Akira do the same.

Good, step one was successful. On to step two. Tsuzuki extended a tendril of reiatsu in Akira's direction, meeting a similar tendril from the other boy. Twining the tendrils together, Tsuzuki spun them together until they seemed to meld together.

Like tuning a radio to find a station, there was a burst of what could be described as static before Tsuzuki was suddenly hyperaware of Akira's reiatsu. '_Ready?_' he projected the thought along their temporarily joined reiatsu threads.

There was the mental equivalent of a determined nod, and together they synchronised their pulses of reiatsu. Breathing evenly, the duo slowly brought their cupped hands into contact with each other, and unfurled their fingers as one. The two butterflies fluttered, their wings brushing against each other's. Neither moved when Akira tilted his palm just enough for his butterfly to perch easily on Tsuzuki's palm as well.

Heart pounding, Tsuzuki initiated the last step, delicately settling the jigoku-chō back into the jar. Only when Akira had screwed the jar lid back on did they both heave collective sighs of relief, grinning maniacally at each other.

"Excellent work," a voice came from behind them. Akira yelped and nearly fell off his chair, while Tsuzuki jerked and held a hand to his chest. Neither of them had sensed Ōnabora standing behind them, which spoke of how deeply they were concentrating. The First Class teacher smiled approvingly at them, though his eyes held a glimmer of amusement at their antics. "Looks like a success," he complimented, and the duo exchanged triumphant grins.

"No wonder you need a license to breed these things," muttered Akira, resting his head on the table while Ōnabora carried their jar away. Tsuzuki offered him a tired grin, head pillowed on his arms.

Completely drained, the duo followed the rest of their classmates out of the door, very grateful for the fact that jigoku-chō breeding was the last class on a Friday.

… … … … … … …

Tsuzuki rose from the floor in a fluid motion, slowly going through the motions of stretching to make sure there would be no backlash from sitting cross-legged for so long. He snorted inwardly at the impatient idiots who rushed immediately out of the Meditation Chamber.

"They'll be feeling it in the morning," chuckled Akira quietly, imitating his actions.

Tsuzuki nodded in agreement. "They'll all wake up sore and miserable," he predicted.

"I think they overdid the incense today, I was so relaxed that I nearly fall asleep," Akira commented. He bounced on the balls of his feet, bent over double with his knees straight, and then promptly fell into a forward roll that ended with a perfect split.

"Show off," Tsuzuki informed him quietly.

"You just wish you could do it," retorted Akira.

Ignoring Akira with practised ease, Tsuzuki changed the subject. "I heard we'll be starting with asauchi soon."

"Mhmm," Akira made a non-committal noise. "Hopefully an asauchi will help me connect to my mindscape better."

"Seen anything yet?" enquired Tsuzuki.

"Does pitch black count?" Akira grinned and snapped his fingers. "Or maybe that's my mindscape. Pitch darkness, where I can't see anything. Man, I hope not. Not being able to see anything would seriously suck. How am I supposed to fight if I can't see?"

Someone abruptly pushed past them.

"Ahh…" Akira murmured, scratching the back of his head sheepishly as he watched the classmate he had unknowingly insulted walk off. "I'm so–"

"I don't need your pity," the other person snarled, quickening his steps out of the room.

Tsuzuki watched the retreating figure, head spinning with ideas.

… … … … … … …

"Generally, the higher your level of reiatsu, the higher the chance of awakening your zanpakutō spirit," lectured Ōnabora. "But reiatsu level is not the only factor. Mental strength, your attitude, your beliefs and values... all of these determine how likely your zanpakutō will respond to you. Some of you will find it easier than others, especially those who have been diligently meditating every day and have already found your mindscape." A few students glanced at each other in alarm.

"In preparation for your first Human world patrol in two months, all of you will begin meditating with asauchi." He indicated the row of gleaming blades hanging on the wall beside him. "All of these have been used by Academy students for generations, and are well-versed towards helping students awaken their own zanpakutō spirits."

Ōnabora made his way to the end of the Meditation Chamber, which featured only a full-length mirror. "This," he tapped the mirror, "is a permanent portal linking Soul Society with the dimension where the zanpakutō spirits reside."

"Oh," murmured Akira quietly. "I thought it's for us to admire ourselves with." Tsuzuki hurriedly stifled a smile, staring at his own reflection in the mirror. Was that really a portal? Perhaps it would open like a Senkaimon. But then, how would it know when to open?

"Sensei," a girl spoke up, "what should we do if we think we have found our zanpakutō?"

Ōnabora smiled. "When the time comes, you will know what to do." He gave out the asauchi and instructed the class to begin meditating.

Falling easily into a cross-legged pose, Tsuzuki closed his eyes and sought the centre of his being. Opening his eyes, he was greeted with the sight of shadowed skies. Getting to his feet, Tsuzuki clasped his hands and waited calmly.

A whisper of movement behind him.

'_So it is time._'

He inclined his head. '_Will you come?_'

'_Call for me..._'

As though in a trance, back in the Meditation Chamber Tsuzuki uncrossed his legs and stood jerkily. Most of his attention still in his mindscape, it was a surreal experience, almost as though he was a bystander watching someone else was controlling his body.

'_Call for me..._'

Swaying slightly, he made his way to the front of the Chamber, to the mirror beside which Ōnabora was standing, waiting silently for him.

'_... and I shall answer._'

He found himself in front of the mirror, not quite knowing how he got there, but _knowing_ he was meant to be there. Slowly, he brought up his right hand and stretched it towards the mirror. His fingers brushed the surface of the portal and _reached_, sending ripples dancing across its surface like water in a pond. For a moment his reflection distorted, turning briefly into the form of zanpakutō spirit, before his hand sank through the mirror and grasped cool metal.

Drawing the object slowly through the portal, Tsuzuki felt his grasp on reality solidify, until he was abruptly acutely aware that he was indeed holding a sheathed blade in his hand.

"Arigatō gozaimasu," he whispered.

… … … … … … …

Tsuzuki wanted nothing better to examine his zanpakutō in detail, run his hand down the smooth metal and memorise every inch of it, marvel at the small size of a sealed blade – something Zangetsu had never been… but he had lessons.

Spinning his quill idly, Tsuzuki stifled a yawn as the history teacher droned on. Sure, he did see the potential in the subject, and Yukimaru had reluctantly agreed to pore through the material, but the teacher seemed to have the special universal skill of history teachers everywhere to make even the most interesting parts of history sound dull. He would much rather be outside training his new techniques.

Speaking of training… an image of Yoruichi cracking a whip and grinning maniacally made a chill go down his spine. Tsuzuki wondered if there was any way he could hide it from her.

… … … … … … …

"I received a very interesting jigoku-chō from Ōnabora today," Yoruichi began over the dinner table, and Tsuzuki just barely managed to resist the temptation to slam his head repeatedly into the table at the sight of the wide smirk upon her face.

The smirk widened, as though Yoruichi could sense what was going on through his head.

"So, starting from tomorrow, we'll start your training in fighting with a zanpakutō! Isn't this brilliant?" Yoruichi crowed, clapping her hands together gleefully. The smirk changed slightly, revealing a hint of the special brand of sadism Tsuzuki knew she possessed in spades. First-hand knowledge from getting his ass kicked around in what she called "training" almost every day for the past four years.

His life flashing before his eyes, Tsuzuki did the only thing any man would do in that situation: he whimpered.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7: The (sad) life of a clan heir**

"Number 9, out!"

"Number 6, out!"

"Number 4, out!"

And then there were two.

"Number 2, out!"

Yoruichi, arms akimbo, stood glaring at them by the side of the arena. "What are you, a herd of stampeding buffaloes?" she yelled. "Number 5, you made so much noise, even a blind man could have found you!"

"And Number 8!" she barked suddenly, and the boy being addressed froze, one foot still in the air. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Ano…" the boy murmured weakly, "bathroom?" He cringed as her glare intensified.

"Stand up straight, or do you not have a spine?" Yoruichi snapped, but turned away and made a shooing motion at him. "But if you don't come back…" she left the sentence hanging, and the boy squeaked in fright before running away.

Turning back to the other nine students in front of her, Yoruichi continued her harsh assessment of their skills. "Number 1," she finally ended, "your movements are not fluid. There are moments of hesitation before you pinpoint and strike a target."

Tsuzuki winced. "Hai, onee-sama," he answered clearly, remembering to stand straight and bow deeply.

"And did I not say," Yoruichi began dangerously, "that you are not allowed to use hohō?"

"But –" he opened his mouth to protest.

"Punishment duty for the next three days," Yoruichi declared, and Tsuzuki could only bemoan his fate.

He honestly did not mean to. Really. But the prize of winning that mini-tournament was a day off from training… a break his sore and overstretched muscles could really use.

That last strike… that touch of reiatsu to make himself a hair faster than usual, to duck under the other boy's outstretched arm and tap his sternum… was more subconscious than conscious, stemming from a desire to win a break. In fact, Tsuzuki himself had only realised what he had done afterwards.

Trust that devious cat not to miss anything – or to give herself a loophole to renegade on her promise. Looking back, Tsuzuki could not believe how he had managed to fall for her trick. Even if he had won, she no doubt would have pointed out some other flaw in his fighting and made him practice on his "day off".

… … … … … … …

Punishment duty, as all the Shihōin students knew, was just an excuse for their sadistic trainers to come up with new ways to torture them in the name of 'education'.

The smirk on Yoruichi's face confirmed that. "We'll start off with a warm-up. Forty laps around the track, and make sure you avoid all the traps _this_ time."

For a moment, Tsuzuki could only stop and stare at her. Forty laps, as a _warm-up_?

"Or shall I make it fifty?" Yoruichi grinned evilly, and Tsuzuki gulped before beginning his run.

He hastily swerved as the wooden panel in front of him suddenly glowed blue, narrowly avoided a jet of scalding water to his right, and jumped over another rigged panel just as it released a shower of shrapnel.

It was going to be a long forty laps.

… … … … … … …

As a reward for doing so well, apparently, Yoruichi had given him a day off. He had been happy – up until the moment she told him, with an evil smirk on her face, to dress appropriately as the host of a full tea ceremony at noon. "It'll be hakobi style, Tsuki-chan," she told him gleefully, and Tsuzuki groaned out loud. Of course she would pick one of the more annoying styles. At least she did not invite the Elders Council to attend, that would have been even more troublesome.

Tsuzuki would rather have run another forty laps instead of serving tea to _them_.

Taking a deep breath, Tsuzuki exited the tea house, where he had been getting everything ready. He sprinkled water outside the door and re-entered, remembering to leave the door ajar. He walked into the waiting room, double-checked everything was in its place, and continued on to wait in the preparation area.

Barely half an hour later, Tsuzuki felt a swift flash of reiatsu in the guest room, signifying Yoruichi's presence. He stifled a sigh as he sprinkled more water around the garden, then performed the purification ritual. When he looked up, she had already exited the waiting room, and they exchanged silent bows. There was a faint, innocent smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

He knew that look. Cursing inwardly, he waited impatiently for her to glide back into the waiting room and the sliding door to close fully before breaking into a shunpō-aided run. From past experience, he knew that she would take approximately seven minutes to complete her part of the ceremonial rituals, five if she was feeling particularly sadistic. And that innocent smile suggested that she was feeling rather sadistic that day.

Faced with a choice between preserving his dignity and encountering Yoruichi, Tsuzuki ran for his life.

He had barely closed the door to the preparation room, silently gasping for breath, when he heard the door to the tea room lock with a click. Holding a hand to his chest – thank kami-sama, he had barely made it – he bent over for a few moments to steady his breathing. After taking another minute to compose himself, he rose smoothly and entered the tea room.

Yoruichi was already perusing the shelf – he was pretty sure performing haiken that fast was borderline illegal, but there was no way he would say that to her face – and turned to exchange the proper salutations with him.

"I would like to offer you a simple meal," Tsuzuki stated, sliding backwards out of the room. Back in the preparation room, he took another breath to calm himself down, taking the first tray that the servants had already brought from the kitchen. At least Yoruichi did not ask him to run to the kitchen and get it himself, there was no way he could do that within the time limit.

Finally, after over an hour, the kaiseki meal was complete. Tsuzuki wanted to keel over and die. If Yoruichi noticed – and he was fairly sure she did – her expression did not change during their well-rehearsed ritual conversations.

The hardest part, in Tsuzuki's private opinion, came next. Since it was summer, the ritual for the filling of charcoal was only after the formal meal. Giving Yoruichi a glance, Tsuzuki knew without her saying that she was expecting him to perform a gozumi as well. Just his luck.

The charcoal refill was a ritual that required much skill and experience – during the initial filling of charcoal, the pieces must be laid in an exact manner such that the fire would go out at the right time. Careful estimation of the length of time the fire would burn was needed, by factoring in conditions like air flow and the formation of the ash. What made the whole thing worse was that the host had no control over how much time the guests would take for each portion of the ceremony, since there were some optional rituals the guests may choose to initiate.

Tsuzuki gave the tea preparation utensils another glance, rapidly considering which ones Yoruichi was likely to discuss, before coming to an abrupt decision. He could only hope he was right.

What followed next could only be termed a pop quiz, as Yoruichi immediately asked about all except two of the tea utensils laid out. Tsuzuki answered to the best of his ability, explaining the story behind each item, and offering interesting details when he could remember them. It was a good thing that most of what he picked out consisted of items that he had practiced with before.

It was with relief that he served the sweet and called the break, as much for himself as it was for the guests. Sweeping and airing out the tea room already came instinctively to him, and his practiced hands laid out the flower arrangement he had been forced to learn by heart. Giving the charcoal brazier a nervous glance, he steeled his nerves and rung the gong to signal that he was ready. The difficult parts were almost over.

Moments later, he heard the door open. Exiting the preparation room, he ritually cleansed each utensil, and placed them in the prescribed order. Methodically, he whisked the thick tea into perfection, bowing to Yoruichi as he served it. She accepted the bowl from him with a bow, raised it in a gesture of respect to him, rotated it and took a sip. After complimenting him on the tea with a standard phrase, she took a few more sips, wiped the rim of the bowl clean and returned it to him.

The fire chose to sputter out right at that moment, and Tsuzuki heaved a sigh of relief inwardly. Ideally, it should have gone out the moment he finished preparing the tea, but at least it did not choose to do so, say, in the midst of his preparation. That would have been a faux pas of the highest order. Adding more charcoal, he left the room to procure cushions and more confections.

With a similar ritual exchange, the thin tea was served, signifying the end of the formal portion of the tea ceremony. Relaxing minutely, Tsuzuki winced as the ghost of an amused smile flitted across Yoruichi's face, right before she began inquiring politely as to his training schedule.

And suddenly, it was all over. Murmuring the standard farewell, Tsuzuki stood in front of the tea room, a frozen smile on his face, until Yoruichi had passed out of his line of sight. Striding woodenly to the door, he shut it firmly, and then collapsed in a heap on the floor.

The door flung open. "Tsuki-chaaaan," called Yoruichi with a sing-song voice. "Let's go over that, shall we?"

Tsuzuki rolled over and moaned.

… … … … … … …

"Your mission is search and rescue," informed Yoruichi, crossing her arms over her chest. "Infiltrate the compound, successfully locate and make contact with the hostage, then retrieve the hostage without being discovered."

Tsuzuki nodded, flipping through the mission report for the details. The compound, naturally, had a guard rotation on high alert – which meant the guards were all capable reiatsu sensors instead of the grunts one might find elsewhere. No reiatsu meant no shikai, hohō, or kidō – not that Tsuzuki would normally resort to the last option anyway. Glancing through the document, he paused at the words 'absolute secrecy', and considered his options. Better to leave his zanpakutō behind as well. A zanpakutō was an incredibly noisy weapon to take into an infiltration mission, not to mention highly recognisable. Each zanpakutō had its own unique cross-hilt and style, plus the sheath was always embossed with depictions reflecting its owner. In fact, under Seireitei law, the ability of a victim to pick out one's zanpakutō from a line-up was considered proof of guilt.

That left only natural ability. He could work with that.

First, though, he had a compound to scout and a guard rotation to memorise. Sliding his tools for a manual break-in into his pouch, Tsuzuki prepared himself for a lengthy stake-out.

Three days later, he was finally ready. Swinging himself up onto the tree he used during the stake-out, Tsuzuki watched with keen eyes as the guards prepared to change-over in the guard house. There was a time frame of approximately ten seconds when no one was watching the gates or the courtyard, a negligible amount of time for most people not using shunpō.

A good thing that Tsuzuki was not most people. He dropped noiselessly to the ground, crouching down.

The last guard disappeared into the guard house. The way was clear.

Tsuzuki shot off like a bullet, body almost parallel to the ground to prevent accidental detection should anyone glance out of the windows. At the speed he was moving, he was confident enough that he could pass off as a hallucination should someone catch sight of him.

Using his momentum to carry him, Tsuzuki leapt into the rafters just as the guards began exiting the guard house. He was in.

Guards should really learn to look up, Tsuzuki mused as he crept above their heads, using the wooden beams as support. Checking his internal compass, he turned a corner. The room should be somewhere around here…

Checking the corridor to make sure no one was coming, he dropped noiselessly to the floor and expertly picked the lock.

And stopped in shock.

A very familiar hairband sat on the table in the middle of the room, fluffy cat ears seeming to mock him even from that distance. Tsuzuki could have sworn it was giving him a Cheshire grin.

Was _that_ _Thing _supposed to be the hostage?

… … … … … … …

Yoruichi was waiting for him in his room when he staggered back.

"Tsuki-chaaan, punishment duty tomorrow."

"What? Why?" Tsuzuki did not whine. He really did not.

"It was search and _rescue_, not search and destroy," she told him drily.

His screams of horror reverberated down the hall.

**Author's Notes:**

**If I described the whole tea ceremony in detail, it will take up twenty thousand words and everyone, including the author, will die of sheer boredom. And yes, I **_**have**_** read a fic that spent ten thousand words describing **_**half**_** of it in detail.**

**And I have my first hater. It's probably a sign of my insanity that I laugh at hate mail (: but really, you don't like Tsuzuki because he isn't swinging around a big-ass sword called Zangetsu? If you have any constructive criticism I maybe could have tried to do something about it, but really, if you want canon Ichigo, please visit a site like MangaFox, not . Or your nearest manga store. Well, thank you for adding to my review count, and giving me a good laugh.**

**OK, it's kind of impossible for me to thank all of you for your reviews due to FF-Net's lovely anti-spam policy:**

**1) There is a minimum word count so a simple "thank you" is impossible**

**2) Consecutive messages must not have the same words so a longer "thank you" is also impossible**

**3) There is a cap on the maximum number of PMs I can send every minute so quickly sending off 30-40 personalised "thank you"s is still impossible**

**4) Some of you disabled private messaging**

**For previous chapters I've spent 2-3 hours just writing thank you messages alone, time which I would rather spend writing the actual story. So from now on unless you're asking me a question, please don't expect a reply. I really do appreciate you flooding my email inbox, really, and I do read all of them.**


	9. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: For Yume-chan's first week back in school, although it's nearly a week late. What can I say; the chapter decided that it didn't want to end where I planned. You can see the sudden jump in length for yourself.**

**Chapter 8: ****1, 2, 3, are you ready?**

'_Ne, Yuki. Open the door.'_

Sitting up on his bed, Yukimaru wasted no time in dashing to the front door, cautiously peeking through the keyhole out of habit. What he saw made him grin and move to unlatch the deadbolt, unfasten the chain, and then unlock the door. When he finally cracked the door open, a figure slipped into the house, immediately fading back into the shadows.

Tsuzuki watched the proceedings with part amusement, part concern.

"Is it that dangerous around here?" he enquired softly, after the door was carefully barricaded again.

Yukimaru shrugged, glancing at the covered windows. "Better to be safe than sorry," he murmured, leading the way into the house.

Tsuzuki enveloped him in a hug from behind, effectively halting Yukimaru in his steps. Turning around, Yukimaru returned the embrace.

There was a click as the brazier was lit.

Tsuzuki could feel how Yukimaru's arms tightened on his shoulders, how the other's muscles were instantly coiled and tensed for battle. That, more than anything, told him the situation in Rukongai, and he felt a pang of pain for what his mother and brother had to endure likely every day.

"So this is your brother, Yuki-kun?" There was no mistaking that voice. It was the same one that had haunted his nightmares for years after her death, the one he sometimes still heard in his dreams, telling him not to give up. With a squeeze to his shoulder for comfort, Yukimaru let go and stepped aside. Tsuzuki mentally steeled himself again and looked up.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Masaki-san." Tsuzuki bowed deeply. "Thank you very much for taking care of Yuki these years."

Masaki smiled and returned the greeting. "It was no trouble at all; Yuki-kun is a lovely boy." Her eyes flitted across his form, and he knew what she would deduce. His neatly-pressed clothes, made from fabric of a certain quality obvious even in the dim candlelight. The way he carried himself, tall and confident with just a hint of arrogance in his demeanour. Her eyes travelled to the pendant around his neck, the carving of a cat barely visible above the neckline of his shirt.

"Shihōin, ka," Masaki sighed. Even in Rukongai, the Five Noble Houses were common knowledge, their motifs known to any who cared to ask.

Tsuzuki bowed again in respect. "The current heir of the clan, Masaki-san."

Only the widening of her eyes gave away how shocked she was. "Congratulations, Shihōin-san."

"Please, call me Tsuzuki," he replied. "The foster of my own brother should not stand on ceremony with me."

"Yuki-kun is your birth brother and not a foster brother?" Masaki inquired in surprise. In the Rukongai, the former was vastly more unusual than the latter. Souls usually found their way to Soul Society soon after their deaths, and even if they had died together they might not arrive in the same place. For these reasons, it was exceedingly rare to find a family member amongst the vast expanses of Rukongai – if you even had enough reiatsu to remember who your family members were. Most souls barely remembered their own names.

"Yuki is my junior by half an hour," affirmed Tsuzuki. After stabilising Ichigo's main body, Kisuke had spent around half an hour siphoning off Hichigo's reiatsu into a second blank, so in a way it was true.

Masaki raised an eyebrow at the suggestion that the two were twins. At first glance, no one would believe that – with different hair and eye colours, it was almost inconceivable. Yet, as she looked closer, she could begin to spot similarities that were apparent only if you put them next to each other. The angle of their faces. The shape of their noses. If she lengthened and recoloured Yuki's hair – yes, darkened his eyes and reshaped his nose, then perhaps softened the lines around his eyes and rounded out his slightly hollowed cheeks… he would be the spitting image of Tsuzuki.

The duo bore her scrutiny with good grace, Tsuzuki taking this time to gaze upon the visage of his mother. She was younger than in his memories, and clearly content with her life despite the hardships. The laugh lines on her face were just as he recalled.

When she finally looked back at Yukimaru, Tsuzuki took the chance to dart back to the pool of shadows next to the door, where he had left his gift earlier. "Please accept this humble token of my gratitude," he murmured, holding out the bag with another bow. Accepting the bag, Masaki nearly dropped it at the weight, and it was only due to Yukimaru's quick actions that it was brought over to the table.

The first object they removed from the bag was what appeared at first glance to be a rather large rectangular slab of stone. It was only when Tsuzuki ran a finger around an almost-invisible seam and lifted up the lid that they realised it was a box carved from a single slab of stone. The box was lined with crushed ice underneath a layer of silk, and inside were numerous packets of – Masaki took one out to have a better look and gasped – food.

"This is an ice box," introduced Tsuzuki. "It's made from a type of stone that can remain cool even when heated by fire, lined with a layer of crushed ice and covered with silk to maintain a low temperature inside the box. I packed it with some curry and yakitori, and it should keep for a few months."

Underneath the box were folded stacks of clothes. The material was slightly coarse and felt worn, but cleaner than the clothes they usually had. Tsuzuki looked apologetic as he explained that they were originally meant for servants, but clothes of any finer fabrics would have painted a huge target on their backs.

Masaki looked at him, remembering all the stories she had heard about arrogant nobles who thought Rukongai residents were low-life trash, and saw only a young man trying to keep his brother safe and happy.

"Do come back again," she invited, and the blinding smile she received let her know she had made the right choice.

… … … … … … …

In the blink of an eye, six months had passed. With their first ever Human World patrol coming up, the First Class was understandably excited. Sensing their inability to focus on anything else, Ōnabora began lecturing on hand signals and protocols for their patrol instead. The class took to studying these with great aplomb, especially after he announced that the one most fluent in sign language would be the leader of the patrol unit formed by their class.

He started off by performing short hand signals in class, and those who understood would perform the tasks as required. It progressed in difficulty until Ōnabora was having entire conversations in nothing but hand signals, his hands flitting through the symbols as the remaining few who could keep up answered in kind.

Though he tried, Tsuzuki never had a head for memorising theory. He had always been more of a just-do-it guy. The winner of the mini-contest turned out to be a girl named Himura Kaede, a strong-willed fighter who reminded him of Hiyori.

Remembering Renji's recount of his first ever Human World patrol, Tsuzuki could only feel relieved that at least Kaede had managed to summon her zanpakutō.

… … … … … … …

Chattering in nervous whispers, the first-year First Class formed up behind the other classes also going on patrol that day. This being their first time, they would largely only perform support duties for the upperclassmen, learning the ropes as they followed a sixth year class around. Each class formed one patrol unit, and was assigned a specific zone to patrol.

The Senkaimon opened with a loud thud, and Tsuzuki got his first glance of the Human World in this time. From his history lessons back when he was Kurosaki Ichigo, he remembered it was around the start of the Meiji Restoration.

A good thing they did not travel back any further, or he would be finding himself in the middle of a warzone. The thousands of Pluses wandering through battlefields strewn with bodies, craters and armies… Tsuzuki shuddered. He had seen enough of war for a lifetime.

The patrol units peeled off from each other, except Tsuzuki's class and the class they were shadowing. Being sixth years, it was their duty to maintain the Senkaimon and patrol the immediate area, which had the highest chance of attracting Hollows due to the high concentration of reiatsu. With practiced motions, the sixth year class split up into eight smaller teams of four and a team of eight. The unit leader indicated with quick hand motions that each team would be heading to a smaller patrol zone, while the last team remained behind to guard the Senkaimon.

Kaede glanced at the patrol unit under her command. She pointed at several students, Tsuzuki and Akira included, and indicated they were to stay with her. With several chopping motions, she efficiently split the rest of the class up into eight teams, and attached each team to one of the other sixth year teams. With a nod of approval, the sixth year unit leader waved his hand, and the sixth year teams leapt off, the first years right behind them.

Glancing at the six members left, Tsuzuki was unsurprised to find that Kaede had picked the five best fighters in the class. It was a sound tactical decision to guard their only route of retreat with the best people possible.

They split up into pairs to search for Pluses in the immediate vicinity, the sixth year unit leader indicating that they should stay within sight of the Senkaimon at all times.

A few hours later, the group reconvened, having cleared their respective zones of Pluses. After a quick call to the Twelfth Division's Senkaimon command centre, the classes filed back through the Senkaimon to Soul Society.

All in all, it was an uneventful patrol.

After weeks of anticipation, Tsuzuki found he was maybe a little bit let down.

… … … … … … …

No one objected when Ōnabora chose Kaede to be the unit leader of their second Human World patrol, though a few looked askance at Tsuzuki. Had he demanded the role, Ōnabora would have had no choice but to relent, lest he risk the wrath of an entire clan. Such was the power of nobles, especially the Five Great Houses.

Tsuzuki, on his part, thought Kaede had done a good job during their first patrol, and had no qualms supporting her re-election. He did not need to force himself into a leadership role to prove his worth.

"A moment of your time please, Shihōin-san."

Turning around at the sound of Kaede's voice, Tsuzuki signalled to Akira to stay as well almost absent-mindedly, so used was he to using hand signals. Ōnabora had kept up their studies relentlessly, often giving homework or conducting lessons in hand signals to get everyone used to them. "Yes, Himura-san?"

Glancing around to make sure everyone else had exited the classroom, Kaede asked boldly, "May I have a gauge of your actual combat ability?"

Tsuzuki raised an eyebrow. The girl had a lot of guts to ask such a question. Had he been a typical arrogant clan member, he could have taken it as an insult to his ability and demanded a duel to restore his honour. "Why do you ask?" he instead inquired calmly.

Kaede seemed to breathe a sigh of relief when he did not retaliate. "After our first Human World patrol, I went to the library to do more research on the subject. One of my findings was that the safety record is appallingly low – approximately one in every fifteen Human World patrols will encounter Hollows, possibly wiping out entire classes of students. I wish to know the full combat ability of the strongest fighter in our class to prepare for such a scenario."

Tsuzuki nodded sharply. It was a reasonable request, in light of those statistics. "Very well. An average Hollow will be no match for me; however, they tend to attack in groups especially when there is a high concentration of reiatsu in the area, and are capable of utilising basic combat formations such as the pincer movement to capture their targets."

"Will you be able to handle one group of Hollows on your own, Tsuzuki-san?" Akira asked the question Kaede was unwilling to, knowing that Tsuzuki was not the kind to seek retribution for invasive questions.

"I will," affirmed Tsuzuki. "However, in the event of a pincer formation I am not fast enough to deal with the other group of Hollows before they reach the retreating members."

Akira and Kaede exchanged a thoughtful frown. If the unit was to retreat, they may walk into a trap, whereas if they stayed they would be impeding Tsuzuki in his battle, since he would have to keep an eye on them as well.

"Kick me," Tsuzuki suddenly instructed, holding up a hand.

"Eh?" Akira blinked at him, taken aback.

"Kick me as hard as you can," repeated Tsuzuki, waving his hand to indicate where he wanted the other to kick. "I want to see if your hakuda is sufficient to break a Hollow's mask."

Nodding in consent, Akira uttered a war-cry and snapped his leg into Tsuzuki's palm. Wincing slightly, Tsuzuki shook out the sting, thankfully cushioned by the amount of reiatsu he had pumped into his hand. "Can you channel more reiatsu into your leg?" he asked. "That amount of force would only be enough to crack the mask, not split it into two."

Akira frowned, and without warning swung a reiatsu-charged fist into Tsuzuki's arm. There was an ominous crack as Akira stepped back in horror. Tsuzuki blinked. "Well, the amount of force was great, but I think you were supposed to aim for my hand," he deadpanned.

"Ano, I'm sorry, I missed, but is your arm all right?" Akira stammered nervously, while Kaede watched the exchange with wide eyes.

Tsuzuki considered the question, tilting his head. "Just a hairline fracture," he told them nonchalantly. "I'll drop by the healer later and it'll be fine in a few days."

He could not understand why the other two stared at him in mild horror and fascination.

"Back to topic," Tsuzuki interrupted before they could continue about his injury, "I think several in our class would be able to take out normal Hollows. Their masks are more vulnerable to zanpakutō slashes – usually two to three strikes will take care of one. Kidō is also an easier option than hakuda, though your Shakkahō will likely only stun them, unless you can put enough force into it to drill a hole in their masks."

"Like the walls you drill through on a regular basis?" Akira quipped before he could stop himself.

Tsuzuki allowed himself a raised eyebrow, unimpressed. "Yes, exactly," he replied drily.

"So our best bet would be to either use a bakudo to bind it temporarily, then slash its mask off with a zanpakutō," summarised Kaede. "Sixteen out of the forty members in our class have received their zanpakutō, and out of the remaining the majority are reasonably proficient in kidō. Three of them may even be able to replicate Shihōin-san's feat."

Tsuzuki sighed. "However, more often than not there may be Hollows with special abilities, Hollows that could do more than just charge and swipe at you." He closed his eyes briefly, seeing his mother dangling from Grand Fisher's grip all over again. "When you see these, you run."

Akira opened his mouth to argue, but Tsuzuki overrode him. "You may be brilliant fighters here, but none of you have any real combat experience. You have never fought against an enemy with the intent to kill." Akira shut his mouth, looking pensive.

It was Kaede who broke the thoughtful silence. "Are you capable of fighting these, Shihōin-san?"

Tsuzuki thought for a long while, running battle simulations in his head. "Against a group of these Hollows, I will be able to buy enough time for all of you to escape," he finally concluded. What was left unsaid but understood was that he himself might not be able to make it out alive.

"Then I'm staying with you." Akira's tone brooked no argument.

"Me too," Kaede was quick to add her agreement.

Tsuzuki opened his mouth to object automatically, took a better look at their stubborn faces, and closed it again. An idea popped into his head.

"Tell me, how good is your kidō?"

… … … … … … …

The morning of their patrol dawned bright and clear, as they entered the Human World. The patrol group was smaller, only three classes this time. To compensate, the patrol zone was tiny compared to their first time; it was in fact possible for all three patrol units to keep the Senkaimon within view. The sixth year class was also abnormally small, comprising only a dozen students, Tsuzuki noted, and exchanged a grim glance with Akira and Kaede.

The first-years and fifth-years quickly chose their zones, leaving the sixth years behind to guard the Senkaimon. Tsuzuki glanced at their postures, at the hands lingering near their zanpakutō sheaths, and resolved to remain on high alert the whole time.

… … … … … … …

Sending another Plus to Soul Society, Tsuzuki straightened from his work, expanding his reiatsu in a quick sweep of his surroundings. He frowned slightly at the odd readings he got back, looking towards the west.

"What is it?" Akira signed, coming up to him, Kaede right behind him.

Tsuzuki shook his head slightly, worried. He could have sworn there was another group of students to the west during his last sweep, but perhaps they had just shifted location. Just to make sure, he sent off a burst of reiatsu pulses, mapping out the positions of the other students again. One, two, three, four… was there something wrong with his counting? Why was he coming up with one short?

His head snapped to the right and he stared unseeingly in that direction as pulses of reiatsu fired rapidly in what could only be code.

"Ta," he translated out loud, forgoing the radio silence. Akira and Kaede exchanged a look, the latter's hand going to her zanpakutō while the former settled into a light combat stance. "Su," came the next syllable, and the three of them exchanged a glance, only one word in their mind. "Ke," confirmed Tsuzuki, and suddenly his face drained of colour. "The reiatsu signature disappeared, but the last syllable definitely started with 't'," Tsuzuki told the other two tonelessly.

Kaede pulled out her Hollow detector, frowning as it sat silently in her palm, suggesting there were no Hollows anywhere nearby. Tsuzuki gave a rather inelegant snort at the piece of Twelfth-division technology, pulling out his own Urahara Kisuke™ product. The moment he opened the lid, the display screen lit up instantly with little red skull-shaped lights. There was no need to ask what those meant.

The trio rose immediately into the air, Kaede reaching for her communicator to call everyone in their patrol unit to gather. Tsuzuki scanned the direction the plea for help came from, but found no suspicious traces. It was as if the student had vanished into thin air.

"I'm going ahead," he announced tersely, sliding into a high-speed shunpo before either of the other two could object. Glancing at his Hollow detector, he frowned at the flashing red lights. Was there a chance it was malfunctioning? No way. It was an Urahara product – the chance of that was negligible. If it was not working, it was designed that way; but he could not think of any reason for Kisuke to make him think there were Hollows if there were none.

Unless… unless it was another one of Yoruichi-nee-sama's training tactics to keep him on his toes?

So immersed in the possibility of sabotage, Tsuzuki nearly overshot an open field he could have sworn was right underneath the Senkaimon. Stopping in his tracks, he blinked. Why was nothing making sense today?

Actually – his thoughts ground to a halt and he turned a full circle around just to make sure.

Where was the Senkaimon?

A chill ran down his spine. Could it be one of Aizen's illusions? Tsuzuki mentally shook himself. He had never seen Aizen release his zanpakutō his entire life, there was no way he could be ensnared in one of his illusions.

"Shihōin-san!"

He turned around to see the rest of his class catching up to him. "Is everyone all right?" he asked brusquely.

Kaede nodded her head, casting a confused look over their surroundings. "Ano, where did the Senkaimon go?"

There was a restless shuffling behind her as everyone realised the implications of losing their only means of transport back to Soul Society, with Hollows on the loose.

"Get ready for an ambush," instructed Tsuzuki. Zanpakutō were removed from their sheaths and a flutter of reiatsu concentrating behind him indicated the preparation of kidō. Seeing they were prepared, Tsuzuki flared his own reiatsu in the code for _anyone there?_

He received replies almost instantly, as black blurs began shooting towards their position. Tsuzuki held up a hand to halt over-eager attacks, recognising the reiatsu as belonging to some of the fifth-year students.

"Do you know what's going on?" Tsuzuki asked as the others got within earshot.

"We were attacked by Hollows," the fifth-year unit leader told them quietly. "Three of my classmates are dead."

"Did you see what happened to the Senkaimon?" asked Kaede worriedly.

One of the other fifth-years nodded. "A couple of Hollows attacked the ones keeping the portal open. They dropped the connection to defend themselves."

Tsuzuki grimaced. They could only assume the worst. "Look for the stabilisers; they probably fell to the ground below." He cast an eye out for the glint of sunlight on metal. Senkaimon stabilisers were in the shape of a large rectangular 'U' about half the size of his torso, and should not be very difficult to see even up in the air.

There!

Giving a nod to Kaede, Tsuzuki folded upon himself and released the reiatsu keeping him in the air, dropping like a stone. He kept his eyes peeled for any movement despite the discomfort, aware that any mistake could be fatal.

A flash in the corner of his eye.

Trusting his instincts, Tsuzuki tucked himself into a forward roll, using his momentum to dodge the Hollow's first strike and slam his legs directly onto its mask. Surveying his surroundings quickly, he was on the move before the first Hollow had even finished dissolving, just in time to dodge an attack from his blind spot. Flipping backwards, he kicked a third Hollow in the mask, then used it to propel himself towards the second Hollow, burying a fist in its mask.

Finally landing on the ground, Tsuzuki glanced around again, but no other Hollows leapt out. He walked cautiously over to the piece of metal that had caught his attention up in the air, noticing to his relief that it was indeed one of the Senkaimon stabilisers. That left the question as to where the other was, but before he could grab it, a soft moan of pain reached his ears.

Reaching out to snag one end of the stabiliser with one hand, Tsuzuki warily made his way towards the clump of bushes near the edge of the field.

One of the sixth years lay hidden in the shadows, curled up on his side, the missing Senkaimon stabiliser clutched in one hand. A zanpakutō laid a few steps away, looking as though it was dropped when its owner collapsed. At least he had managed to staunch the bleeding from his leg with a torn strip of cloth, because Tsuzuki knew next to nothing about medical kidō.

"Are you all right?" Tsuzuki asked, part of his attention diverted to the injured student in front of him.

"Y-yeah," the other gasped, struggling up. "Thanks for getting the Hollows off me."

"Not a problem." Tsuzuki waved the platitudes off. "Were there any more Hollows?"

The sixth year thought for a while. "I don't think so, four of them attacked me, but I managed to finish one off. You took care of the others."

Offering a hand, Tsuzuki helped the boy to his feet.

A flash of movement in the corner of his eye.

There was no way to dodge, with an injured student leaning on his left shoulder and a Senkaimon stabiliser in his right hand. With both hands occupied, he could not draw his zanpakutō, and he had no momentum to kick the Hollow hard enough to shatter the mask on the first try.

With no other choice, Tsuzuki let the stabiliser dangle dangerously from his last three fingers, pointed at the centre of the Hollow's mask with his index finger and snapped, "Jūgeki Byakurai!"

The Hollow was moving so fast, the tip of his finger almost touched its mask when a red beam of energy ripped a clean hole through it. Tsuzuki allowed a twitch of his lips at the result of Kisuke's favourite kidō. A modified version of Hadō number four: Byakurai, it used more reiatsu to generate a greater impact lasting over greater distances. Perfect for someone with a lot of reiatsu to spare and not much control. The lack of any incantation was an additional bonus.

"A-arigatō," whispered the other boy, pushing off Tsuzuki to wobble upright. Tsuzuki nodded and took the other stabiliser from his hand, allowing the sixth year his pride.

They rose into the air to the other waiting students. When a loud cry of "Tachibana-kun!" greeted them and the sixth year was led away, Tsuzuki realised that the remaining sixth years had gathered while he was away. He did a quick head count, and scowled when he found two missing amongst their number. After the initial outburst, though, there was an awkward silence as everyone stared at Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki coughed. "Found them," he announced rather unnecessarily, waving the stabilisers.

"Well, at least you _can_ handle Hollows, like you said," Kaede eventually muttered.

Tsuzuki rolled his eyes. "The Hollows were probably hiding close to ground level," he reported. "Now, can someone call the Twelfth Division and get this Senkaimon set up before they come again?"

"I can help with the Senkaimon," Tachibana supplied, appearing from within the mob of students fussing over his injury. "Oh shush," he scolded them, "I'm your best kidō user and you know it."

One of the fifth years volunteered for the other stabiliser, and the two got to work, positioning the two stabilisers twenty paces apart. Counting to three, both channelled a spark of reiatsu into their stabiliser, causing a visible link to appear between the stabilisers. Tachibana looked up expectantly. "Since we don't have a jigoku-chō, we need an open connection on the other end to connect to," he explained. Seeing their blank faces, he elaborated, "Our Senkaimon is active right now, but we need an active one in Soul Society to connect to. To do this, we need to synchronise our reiatsu to the same frequency as the people manning the other Senkaimon, such that the echo creates a rip in the fabric separating the two worlds and links the two Senkaimon. Otherwise, we risk being trapped in the Dangai, or coming out in a completely different time."

The remaining students stared at each other. "I don't have a means of communicating with Soul Society," admitted Kaede.

"The denreishinki is only given to the overall leader," added the fifth year unit leader. A communications device capable of inter-dimensional calls was so difficult to produce, normally each expedition to the Human world was only given one.

"He's dead," murmured Tachibana quietly. "The Hollows went for him first, he never saw it coming."

They exchanged a look of dawning horror.

In the far distance, a Hollow howled.

They were stuck in the Human world, completely cut off from Soul Society – Tsuzuki could not even get word to Yoruichi, since their link did not extend across worlds. The only one he could contact was Yukimaru, who could not do anything. Unless… unless…

Tsuzuki swallowed. He had better be right about this. Yanking out his Hollow detector, he scrutinised the device carefully, running his finger over the covering.

"What are you doing?" inquired Akira, sidling up next to him.

"There's a chance of this being a communication device," Tsuzuki told him tersely. "It's an Urahara Kisuke product, there's no way it's just a Hollow detector." He would not be surprised if that man managed to turn something so small and innocuous into a Hollow detector, a communications device, a satellite receiver, and a tracker all at once. In fact, knowing that man, it probably worked as a can of pepper spray if he held it upside down and spoke some ridiculous phrase like, "Take the power of Justice! The Armor and Headband of Justice! Protect yourself!"

He actually would not put it past Kisuke to force him to say that again to activate something, but hopefully that was not the password to unlock the denreishinki.

Making a note to test that phrase when he's alone in his room, Tsuzuki brushed past a groove in the cover. Instinctively, he pressed down, and the screen instantly went blank. There was a moment when he prayed he did not accidentally break the device, but then the screen slid smoothly upwards and unfolded into the shape of a satellite dish, revealing a single button with the universal icon for "call".

Relieved, Tsuzuki hit it once. A familiar dial tone came through a hidden speaker somewhere – he had no desire to know any specifics. "Come on, pick up," he murmured, aware that the others were silently crowded around him.

After what seemed to be an eternity, there was a sudden click. "Moshi moshi?" It was unbelievably good to finally hear Kisuke's voice.

Whatever Tsuzuki was about to say was cut off by the howl of a Hollow, closer than the last time.

"Let me guess, the Twelfth Division is being their usual incompetent selves," lamented Kisuke.

"It's a good deduction, yeah," shot back Tsuzuki. "We needed an active Senkaimon five minutes ago. Can you get this to the Twelfth Division?"

There was a hesitation on the other end, as though the other had suddenly stopped in the middle of the street and was busy making his own plans. "I can do one better," Kisuke finally replied. "I got you the Shihōin one."

Tsuzuki's eyes widened. "You spoke to nee-sama?" he asked.

He could almost hear the smile in the other's voice. "She's on her way to bite their heads off right now. I'm headed for the Shihōin compound; give me about ten minutes to get it up. Pass the device to one of the two doing your Senkaimon, will you?"

A loud cheer erupted from the anxious students as Tsuzuki obligingly handed the device to Tachibana, who treated it as though it was made of spun glass. The moment he spoke a halting, "Tachibana desu," Kisuke began firing off technical terms and numbers, and soon the two were engrossed in a discussion.

Their triumph was short-lived, however, as ripples of reiatsu indicated the Hollows were sick of waiting.

"Form a circle around the Senkaimon!" shouted Kaede, drawing her zanpakutō and holding it at the ready.

"Form two circles, zanpakutō users on the outside, and kidō users on the inside!" The fifth year unit leader disagreed. "The outer circle charge, the inner circle fire kidō over their heads!"

Tsuzuki positioned himself closest to the direction the howls had come from, zanpakutō at the ready. Now that they were no longer in immediate danger, adrenaline pumped through his veins at the prospect of a good fight where he could go all out.

The all hell broke loose.

Kicking off, Tsuzuki met the lead Hollow's claws with his zanpakutō, twisting out of the way of another's tail, and fired a Jūgeki Byakurai into a third. There were more Hollows than he had expected, which meant there was likely a Garganta somewhere nearby.

"I'm going to see where they're coming from!" he hollered, slicing through the Hollows in his way. If he was going to temporarily leave the fight, he would at least make it as easy for them as possible.

A vicious kick took care of the Hollow to his right and Tsuzuki mentally sighed, already knowing who it was and that it was useless to protest. "Keep up," he instead instructed, sliding into a moderate shunpo and was pleased that Akira was following easily.

They broke clear of the mass of Hollows and for a moment Tsuzuki just hovered in mid-air, looking confusedly around. There were no black rips in the sky anywhere he could see.

His instincts blaring, Tsuzuki dove out of the way, just as a tail sporting vicious barbs swept through where he was a second ago. He looked up. Oh, up there.

Stabbing a finger violently upwards, Tsuzuki took a moment to concentrate his reiatsu, and called, "Jūgeki Byakurai!"

The resultant beam pierced neatly through the next Hollow, skewering it together with the other Hollows behind it. With the advance of the Hollows temporarily stopped, Tsuzuki closed his eyes and held out both hands. Shaping his reiatsu into a thin thread, he envisioned holding a gigantic sewing needle and used his reiatsu to stitch up the gap. Satisfied that no new Hollows would be emerging in the near future, he opened his eyes to survey his handiwork. Tsuzuki winced. It was… to put it nicely, a little crooked. If Ishida were there, he would have been scolded six ways to Sunday, and then the Quincy would tear down his temporary patch to make way for neat rows of double cross-stitches or something.

Turning to Akira to tell him to pull back, Tsuzuki was momentarily disconcerted to find the other nowhere in sight. That was odd, Akira had been right behind him when he was closing the Garganta, dealing with another Hollow that had come out of nowhere. Tsuzuki scowled and mentally rewound what he had subconsciously registered. There had been a violent movement behind, and he had assumed Akira had disposed of the Hollow. But what if it had been the other way around…

He dropped his gaze to the ground below to see Akira crawling out of several collapsed trees, a Hollow bearing down on him. Even as he moved, he knew he would never get there in time. He was just not _fast_ enough.

If only he had Zangetsu! A Getsuga Tenshō would have taken care of that Hollow immediately.

What was the _use_ of coming back in time, of gaining more power? How could he save two entire worlds, when he could not even protect the person next to him?

It was like watching a train wreck. For a moment, Akira's horrified visage was overlapped with Renji's broken body, with Rukia's still form, with his friends' corpses. Yuzu's wide unseeing eyes gazed accusingly at him.

_Make it stop._

"Utareru, Kurai'arashi!"

Over the pounding in his ears, Tsuzuki barely recognised his own voice.

Mere millimetres away from Akira's face, the Hollow halted in its charge, struggling against what appeared to be invisible strings tying it in place. Bamboozled, it reared back – and Tsuzuki's punch sent it flying right into the wire net, digging into its mask and slicing it to pieces.

Akira swallowed. "Is that…" he trailed off, eyes picking up on the faint glint of light on thin metal wire. He staggered to his feet and began climbing into the air again, Tsuzuki right behind him.

"My shikai, yes," Tsuzuki finished. "My zanpakutō blade stretches into wires that I can freely direct. I haven't really figured out what I can do with it yet, other than use it for trip wire." To demonstrate, he flicked a hand, causing a Hollow sneaking up behind one of the students to fall flat on its face. The 'trip wire' then promptly smacked into its mask, slicing through it neatly.

"Sugei," Akira gasped, stars in his eyes. "Long-ranged, short-ranged, defensive _and_ offensive – I hope my zanpakutō is equally awesome!"

Tsuzuki blinked, taken aback, but before he could comment the Senkaimon hummed, its doors finally opening. As though fearing the escape of their prey, the Hollows pressed their assault relentlessly. There was no way they could run through the gates before being struck down. He took the sight in in an instant, and knew what he must do.

"I need some time," Tsuzuki instructed, dropping into a cross-legged posture and closing his eyes to aid his concentration. It would be the first time he was doing it, but he somehow _sensed_ that it would work. '_Please help us,_' he asked his zanpakutō silently.

Abruptly, the Hollows stopped advancing, as though blocked by an invisible barrier.

"What's going on?" asked several confused souls.

The first to comprehend the situation, Akira fell to his knees in front of Tsuzuki, reverently raising hands until he touched the two ends of the wire loops in each of Tsuzuki's outstretched hands. Carefully, he enunciated, "Hadō #11, Tsuzuri Raiden!" So that was why Tsuzuki had asked him and Kaede whether they were proficient in lightning-based kidō back in the classroom.

Arcs of electricity danced out Akira's fingertips, jumping onto the almost invisible zanpakutō and racing down the wires like a string of lights on a Christmas tree, until a dome of electrified wire was seen to envelope them completely, blocking the Hollows.

"Go!" urged Tachibana, and as though a paralysing spell was broken, the students turned and began stampeding to the exit. Only a few stayed rooted to the spot – Kaede, the two keeping the Senkaimon open, the fifth year unit leader and one last first year.

At the sight of their cornered prey fleeing, the Hollows roared, throwing themselves against the dome without care for themselves. Tsuzuki cursed as he almost lost control of the entire structure, opening his eyes to take stock of the situation. Less than half the students remained, streaming steadily through the Senkaimon. _Just a little bit more…_

A particularly violent thrust by the Hollows threw them backwards. Akira yelped as he was knocked off balance and almost fell into Tsuzuki's lap, breaking their connection. The electricity running through the dome spluttered and died. Seeing this weakness, the Hollows surged forwards,

Kaede flung both hands towards the barrier before it collapsed. "Hadō #4, Byakurai!" she yelled. A pale stream of lightning shot out of her hands, briefly lighting up the dome once more and repelling the Hollows slightly. Unfortunately, it was more like the sting of static electricity than actual live wire, and they soon doubled their efforts.

"How long does the Senkaimon remain open after you break the connection?" Akira hollered to Tachibana.

"Two minutes!" Tachibana screamed back. "You can close it manually by disrupting the reiatsu flow when you go through it!"

Tsuzuki made a quick decision. "You two leave first!" He gritted his teeth. "I'm… almost –"

Immense reiatsu pressure.

"What –" gasped Kaede.

Tsuzuki's heart stopped.

As though physically crushed by the reiatsu pressure weighing down upon them, the remaining Hollows staggered, but then as one they rushed towards the Garganta Tsuzuki had sealed earlier – except it was not sealed anymore. A giant hand was tearing it back open, a pointy white nose poking out of the steadily-widening gap.

Letting the protective shield fall now that there was no immediate danger, Tsuzuki bent forwards, gasping for breath as though he had just run a marathon. Extensive usage of his shikai over such a large area was extremely draining on his reserves. At this rate…

He barely heard Kaede screaming over the rushing of blood in his ears. "What are you doing, Tōsen-san? Get out of here!"

There was a ripping sound, and a shriek of triumph.

"Himura-san!"

Tsuzuki's eyes snapped open at Akira's frantic shout. The other boy was struggling to his feet, wobbling unsteadily, a trail of blood dribbling down his chin. Following his gaze, for a moment Tsuzuki could not comprehend what he was seeing.

Kaede had drawn her zanpakutō and was charging directly at the Menos Grande.

"Run," Tsuzuki murmured to Akira.

"I'm not leaving you two," Akira retorted stubbornly, despite barely being able to stand.

Not wasting any more time to argue, Tsuzuki stumbled to his feet, clutching his zanpakutō in his right hand and using the left to find his balance.

Intent on damaging the Gillian to buy time for them, Kaede was caught completely off-guard when one of the smaller Hollows attacked her. There was the sickening of claws shredding flesh.

She screamed.

Tsuzuki saw white. With shaking hands, he reached up and tore the pendant off his neck. His suppressed reiatsu returned with the force of a typhoon, flattening everything near him and giving him the desperately-needed boost in energy.

Tsuzuki had never run so fast in his life.

Grabbing Kaede with one hand, he hauled her unceremoniously over his shoulder and raced back to the Senkaimon, only pausing to sling an arm around Akira's semi-conscious form. His eyes were not focusing properly; everything was largely a blur. On an objective level, Tsuzuki was aware that he was listing dangerously, but there was no time to care about that – the gates were closing, the time limit evidently up.

His foot crossed the threshold.

Pain exploded across his back, sending him crashing onto the ground. Akira moaned feebly, tugging weakly on his arm as though to object. With supreme effort, Tsuzuki dragged himself upright once more, swaying horribly on his feet.

If he died to the Sweeper, Yoruichi was never going to let him hear the end of it.

Summoning the dregs of his energy, Tsuzuk ran.

Blinding white light.

A pair of hands caught him before he fell; a familiar reiatsu wrapped gently around him.

He let go.

… … … … … … …

… … … … … … …

_Earlier that day…_

Kisuke was making his usual rounds around the Maggots' Nest, checking to see if all prisoners are accounted for. They just had a shipment late last night, and the new ones were always a little feisty. Most of them made the same mistake – that since he was but one man, surely they could overpower him with sheer numbers.

The emergency communication device in his pocket trilled a sudden alarm.

Seeing that half his staff carried a communicator to be able to call him in case of a breakout, Kisuke thought no more of it as he pulled out his device and pressed the "answer" button. "Moshi moshi?"

The eerie wail of a Hollow greeted him.

Kisuke pulled the device away from his ear and frowned. Well, that certainly was not coming from the Maggots' Nest. He thought he might have noticed if there was a Hollow in the prison. Which left…

He was seriously going to install Caller ID after this.

"Let me guess, the Twelfth Division is being their usual incompetent selves," he lamented.

"It's a good deduction, yeah," Tsuzuki snarked. "We needed an active Senkaimon five minutes ago. Can you get this to the Twelfth Division?"

Kisuke paused in the middle of his stroll. _'Yoruichi, I need the Shih__ōin Senkaimon,'_ he requested, sending the thought down her red reiatsu ribbon with the ease of long practice.

The Kidō Corps strictly monitored all public Senkaimon in Soul Society. Even if one closed by accident, the Twelfth Division would have to send a jigoku-chō to the Sōtaichō to formally request the opening of a Senkaimon, and receive an approval before the Kidō Corps Commander could open another one. The sheer amount of bureaucracy involved, while preventing the misuse of the Senkaimon for frivolous trips like shopping (the Shinigami Women's Association was the entire reason why this law was in place), would work against them in the case of an emergency like this one.

'_Done,'_ she replied almost immediately. _'Now, does this anything have to do with the nervous Twelfth Division messenger in front of my door?'_

'_The Academy patrol is being attacked by Hollows and their Senkaimon closed,'_ Kisuke told her sombrely, stepping into a quick shunpo out of the prison.

'_And I bet their jigoku-ch__ō returned,'_ snorted Yoruichi. _'Go get the Senkaimon, I've got incompetent fools to scream at.'_

Letting a smirk flit over his visage, Kisuke spoke out loud, "I can do one better – I got you the Shihōin one."

"You spoke to nee-sama?" Tsuzuki's voice was clearly incredulous.

Kisuke grinned, exiting the Maggots Nest and setting off for the Shihōin compound post-haste. What did the kid think he was doing, staring in horror at his device or something? "She's on her way to bite their heads off right now. I'm headed for the Shihōin compound; give me about ten minutes to get it up. Pass the device to one of the two doing your Senkaimon, will you?" There was no way Tsuzuki would be handling the Senkaimon, considering his abysmal reiatsu control _even_ with a limiter on.

There was a loud noise, and then a halting, "Tachibana desu." The kid was clearly nervous. Well, if he was competent – unlike _members of a certain division that must not be named_ – he soon would not be.

"Give me your coordinates," Kisuke ordered. The fastest way to cure anxiety was to give them something to focus on, like getting out of there alive.

"Thirty five, seven, a hundred and eighty-seven North," rattled off the boy instantly. "Hundred thirty-six, twenty-six, a hundred and twenty-seven East."

"Good," Kisuke told him. "Now can you tell me what frequency you're best at using?"

As the talk degenerated into technical terms and strings of numbers, Kisuke stepped into the Shihōin compound. He was met at the tori gates by an Onmitsukidō member. "The Senkaimon has been prepared, Urahara-san-seki."

Kisuke nodded in reply, speeding into a rapid shunpo the other could not hope to match. He was in front of the activated gates in an instant. "I'll take it from here," he told the duo keeping the Senkaimon activated. "One of you, inform Unohaha-taichō that we are expecting multiple casualties."

"Hai, Urahara-san-seki," they replied obediently, and stepped away from the Senkaimon.

Kneeling next to one of the stabilisers, Kisuke channelled a precise amount of reiatsu into it. "Ready," he spoke into the communications device.

There was a hum as the link was established, and the gates opened.

Quick footsteps announced the arrival of the Fourth Division members, led by Unohana herself. Exchanging a terse greeting, Kisuke returned his attention to the Senkaimon. He frowned.

The gates were open, but no one was coming through.

Through the denreishinki, Kisuke could hear the faint sounds of battle. He cursed. Where were the reinforcements? Knowing Yoruichi, she probably went to submit the request for a Senkaimon herself. The "Goddess of Flash" was not a mere decorative title – she could travel at the speed of light if she really felt a pressing need to. Tessai himself would be manning the Senkaimon, so the issue would not lie with the Kidō Corps. The Twelfth Division must have done something superbly idiotic again.

"Run!" someone suddenly screamed.

Like a dam that had been burst, students began flooding through the Senkaimon. With quick practised motions, Unohana began directing her division members to heal their injuries. Surveying the crowd, she came to the conclusion that none of them were severely injured and required her immediate attention. Those, if any, were likely to be straggling behind. Her eyes met Kisuke's.

There was no way they could send reinforcements through _this_ Senkaimon, not at the risk of running over one of the students in the Dangai, with possibly fatal consequences. They could only wait and hope for the best.

"Two minutes!" Tachibana's voice erupted from the communications device, evidently in reply to some question on his end. "You can close it manually by disrupting the reiatsu flow when you go through it!"

The stream of students slowed to a trickle, and stopped.

Kisuke let his eyes sweep over the crowd yet again, hoping that he had only missed the boy the first few times. He glanced at Unohana, and saw that she had come to the same conclusion as he did.

Shihōin Tsuzuki was not amongst them.

Two boys came stumbling through the gates, one leaning heavily on the other for support. The injured boy was holding Tsuzuki's Hollow detector, and the Senkaimon stabilisers were in the hands of the other.

Kisuke had a very bad feeling.

Unohana stepped around the mob of Academy students collapsed over every available space, making a beeline for the duo. The boy – Tachibana, most likely – did not protest as he was laid out on the grass, as she tended to his injured leg.

"How many left?" she asked him quietly.

"Three," Tachibana gasped, wincing as she carefully undid the crude bandages wound around his leg. "But something was coming, I couldn't really see, they were screaming at us to run – but it was huge and black and had a pointy white nose."

It was only through long experience that Kisuke kept the Senkaimon steady, though his heart skipped a beat. A Gillian, at this time?

"What were the three of them doing?" queried Unohana in the same soothing tone as she held her hands above his injury.

Tachibana swallowed. "The girl – I think she's the first year unit leader, she went at it with her zanpakutō. Shihōin-san was trying to get up, but I think his shikai really drained him, he could barely stand."

"His shikai?" Kisuke asked.

"Yeah – it made some sort of, I think it was a wire dome or something," explained Tachibana. "Then one of them charged it with electricity using a kidō, and it shielded us from the Hollows long enough for most of us to escape."

Kisuke could only gape. Shikai, with his reiatsu limiters on? His shikai's reiatsu consumption was scaled according to his actual amount of reiatsu, not the tiny amount his limiter was set to. Never mind the duration – Tsuzuki had probably drained half of his available reiatsu just by activating it. Then to actively use it for an extended period of time…

Tsuzuki was going to get a severe dressing-down when he got back.

There was a loud cry from the gathered students as a figure appeared in the doorway, silhouetted against the bright light.

Tsuzuki tripped and crashed, the two immobile figures in his arms almost tumbling out as a result. Confirming that there were indeed three of them, Kisuke dropped the Senkaimon now that it was no longer needed, and dove for them. Beside him, Unohana hastily delegated one of her division members to take over, hurrying over to the trio.

In one glance it was clear that the girl slumped over Tsuzuki's shoulder was in critical condition, so Unohana carefully carried her to a clear patch of grass and set to work.

Kisuke gently pried the other boy off Tsuzuki; a quick glance at him suggested that he was in no need of immediate medical attention, so he gestured to one of the Fourth Division members to take over. He then turned his attention to the boy in his arms. He had wrapped his reiatsu around Tsuzuki automatically, and the other was clearly already unconscious.

Shifting Tsuzuki into a more comfortable position, Kisuke was alarmed to see crimson seeping through the white coloured kosode. "Unohana-taichō?" he raised his voice slightly, not letting any of his anxiety slip out.

The healer glanced up briefly from where she was bent over the incapacitated girl, who was bleeding profusely all over the grass. Just one look was enough for her to reach for the zanpakutō slung over her shoulder with a rope strap, calling out the shikai release. Carefully loading the girl into Minazuki's mouth, she darted over to Kisuke.

"Cero," she explained succinctly. "It hits the inner organs first, so we wouldn't see blood until a while later." Raising her hands to begin a diagnosis, she frowned when the green light faded after a few seconds.

"He's shielding himself any reiatsu he doesn't recognise," Unohana told Kisuke. "I can't help him like this."

Kisuke scowled at the kosode, now almost completely red. "What can we do?"

Unohana looked frustrated, a rarity for the patient woman. "Someone whose reiatsu he accepts needs to convince his subconscious that he's no longer fighting so that I can work on him. Where is Yoruichi-taichō?"

"At the Twelfth, I expect," replied Kisuke. "So I just need to get him to relax?"

"Essentially, yes," she agreed.

'_Tsuki-chan?'_ asked Kisuke silently. _'It's me. It's OK, the battle's over. Everyone's fine, the Fourth's looking after them now. You can relax now.' _He continued soothing Tsuzuki with meaningless platitudes and repeated assurances that everyone else was all right, and slowly the prickliness in his reiatsu faded. As it did, Tsuzuki's zanpakutō reformed on the grass beside him, having finally been released from its shikai form. Kisuke could have hit himself for not noticing its absence earlier.

At a nod from Unohana, Kisuke moved aside to allow her to work. Stripping both the blood-stained kosode and the shitagi underneath it off, she revealed the mess of ruptured blood vessels and burnt areas on his back. With nary a flinch, Unohana set her hands hovering over the worst-hit regions, bathing the area in soft green reiatsu.

Knowing his presence would no longer make a difference, Kisuke picked up Tsuzuki's zanpakutō. He needed to do something with his hands. Methodically cleaning it and sliding it back into the sheath he took off Tsuzuki's clothes, Kisuke reverently laid it on the grass next to him.

He should have been used to seeing Tsuzuki bleeding and broken; the war with Aizen had taken a heavy toll on the front-line fighters, more so for those that fought without care for themselves like Kurosaki Ichigo. After Unohana and Isane had fallen, the bulk of healing had fallen almost entirely to Tessai, which meant Kisuke had seen far more blood and death than he had ever wanted to. Although the humans were entirely under Orihime's jurisdiction, the sheer amount of time she spent in Urahara Shōten helping Tessai meant Kisuke could no longer count how many times he had seen Ichigo's unconscious body being dragged back.

It had been over four years since Kisuke had seen Tsuzuki near death, but to him it was still far too soon.

"Urahara-san-seki?" Unohana's soft query broke him out of his reverie, and he glanced questioningly at the captain. "Can you fetch Seinosuke-kun please?"

Glad to have something to do before his imagination ran wild – perhaps that had been Unohana's intention? – Kisuke took off at a quick shunpo, trying not to ponder upon why she would need her second-in-charge.

He arrived at the Fourth Division "Please inform Yamada-fukutaichō that Unohana-taichō required his presence in the Shihōin compound," he announced to the Fourth division member outside the office.

A glance at his no doubt dishevelled state silenced any questions Yamada might have had; instead, the other man followed him quietly, not even complaining when Kisuke might have set a pace too quick for the other.

Unohana looked up at their return. "Just in time. Seinosuke-kun, can you help me keep her stable?" she asked, laying Tsuzuki inside Minazuki's mouth and bending once more over the girl Minazuki had swallowed earlier.

Feeling helpless, Kisuke was glad when a distraction came in the form of Yoruichi hurrying towards him. "How is he?" she demanded quietly without aplomb, heedless of the students lying about her once-immaculate lawn.

"As of current, still alive," reported Kisuke. "He's currently undergoing treatment inside Minazuki."

Yoruichi gave a sharp nod, clenching and unclenching her fists.

"I thought you'd send reinforcements," Kisuke remarked quietly.

Yoruichi scowled. "I tried to. What were their coordinates?"

"Thirty five, seven, one-eight-seven North," repeated Kisuke dutifully. "One-three-six, twenty-six, one-two-seven East."

"East?" Yoruichi cursed violently and fluently in several languages. "The nincompoops told us _West_. We ended up somewhere with a lot of water and no land anywhere in sight."

"I think that's the Pacific Ocean," Kisuke mused.

She uttered an inarticulate scream of outrage in response.

**Author's Notes:**

**The fight scene is purposely disjointed near the end to simulate the effects of reiatsu exhaustion (modelled after excess blood loss and the beginning stages of shock).**

**Thanks to everyone who reviewed saying they love this story! ^.^ unfortunately I can't reply to all of you, but I finally went through all the reviews sitting in my email inbox haha.**

**I received several questions about pairings, and my answer is: there will be no pairing **_**on screen**_** that isn't explicitly stated in canon. For instance, one of the pairings is clearly Isshin/Masaki, else we wouldn't have Ichigo in the first place. My genre is action/friendship, not romance, so I see no need for explicit pairings. Only the characters shall know who they like.**

**In light of this, anyone else who demands I write/don't write a certain pairing just because you like/hate it, kindly get lost. I'm not writing this just for you, and I'm certainly not going to force two of my characters together/apart just to make you happy. This applies to anyone who wants slash, het, harem, threesome, I-don't-know-what… sorry. None of you will get your wishes. Though if anyone wants to write a spin-off containing certain pairings you can go ahead, just please PM me the link when you're done so I can put it in one of these A/Ns that secretly grow in length every time I turn around.**

**I received another question about how Tsuzuki seemed to have so much free time for the previous chapter to happen, and the reviewer disabled PMs so I can't reply – and my answer is: they have weekends off from school, you know? XD**

**The coordinates are real. Tsuzuki's team was around the Nagoya area, in modern day a forest. The unfortunate reinforcements were somewhere over the North Pacific Ocean, nearer to the United States than Japan.**

**Japanese**

**Tasukete: Save me**

**Utareru, Kurai'arashi: (ref lightning) Strike, Dark Storm**

**All kid****ō mentioned are canon**

**Anyone interested in kanji forms of the names should look in my profile**


	10. Chapter 9

**Author's Note: Hard drive crashed, had to go a month without a computer, then had to rewrite the entire chapter while trying to remember where I was going with it. Half of this chapter was written under the influence of very strong painkillers so I apologise in advance for any mistakes.**

**Also, having exams once every fortnight doesn't really inspire plots. It's not abandoned; I've just been so busy dealing with school (I didn't even have the time to read fanfics for months) and writer's block every time I tried to come up with something. Many months were spent trying to figure out the fight scene below, hence the extra-long delay.**

**Getting mindfucked by canon again. So, Ichigo has gone from spiritually aware human, to temporary Shinigami, to Plus, to Hollow, to Shinigami, to Vizard, to demigod, to proper human, to Fullbringer, to Shinigami again, and now to Quincy?! What's next, Arrancar? Actually, given his ridiculously complicated parentage, since neither of his parents was human (nor indeed, belonging to a clear distinct race when they had him) in the first place, was he ever human to start with? Nothing I can dream up will ever be as outrageous as canon. In light of this new canonical twist, I would like to remind all readers that this story is ****AU****, since I can't read Kubo's mind and I'm not going to try to fit his canon every time he changes something.**

**Also, I'm pretty sure they retconned Hitsugaya, considering I definitely remember he had been promoted to captain straight out of the Academy. And wasn't Isshin captain of the Royal Guard?**

**Chapter 9: ****Gotei 13, here I come!**

Tsuzuki sat bolt upright, hand scrabbling for his zanpakutō even as his eyes adjusted to the dim light. There was something lying on top of him, constricting his movement, suffocating him…

A shift in the air around him.

His reiatsu reacted immediately, shaping into the hadō spell he knew like the back of his hand, and he was moments from releasing a stream of red lightning when a warm _familiar_ reiatsu settled around him soothingly.

"Tsuki-chan –" and Kisuke was suddenly next to him, one arm around his shoulders, pulling him into the older man's arms "– stand down; you're going to bring the house down."

"Whaa –" before he had finished the sentence Tsuzuki instinctively obeyed, pulling his reiatsu back to shroud himself like a cloak. With the haze of sleep lifted from his mind, he looked around again carefully, to find that he was in his room in the Shihōin compound, and had been struggling with his own blanket. He hoped the room was dark enough to cover the redness of his blush.

"What happened to everyone?" Tsuzuki rephrased his earlier question.

"Thanks to your _valiant_ efforts," Kisuke replied drily with no small amount of sarcasm, "no one died."

Tsuzuki lowered his head miserably. What he did was a huge gamble, one that could have been costly not only for the Shihōin Clan, but for the entire war effort against Aizen. "I'm sorry," he whispered quietly.

Some of his feelings must have come through, for Kisuke's face softened as he laid Tsuzuki back down on his futon. "Go back to sleep, Tsuki-chan. You can visit them in the morning."

… … … … … … …

"Come again?" He must have misheard, because there was no way this was happening.

"She can never be a field agent," repeated Unohana patiently. "That last attack nearly bisected her – it was a miracle she survived long enough to reach treatment. However, the damage was too severe – half of her major internal organs were shredded to ribbons. We managed to heal the injuries, but at the cost of creating massive amounts of scar tissue that will permanently impede her ability to be active."

Tsuzuki clenched and unclenched his fists, breathing heavily. "May I see her?" he forced the words out, forcing his voice not to waver. Failure. He failed to keep them safe.

Unohana looked at him piercingly. "Himura-san does not wish to take any visitors right now."

"I would like to see her," pressed Tsuzuki.

After a moment of hesitation, Unohana relented. "Room 106. She's sleeping, try not to wake her."

The door was ajar when he arrived, and Tsuzuki nudged it open a fraction more to poke his head inside. She was indeed asleep, skin pale against the white sheets of the futon.

He must have made a noise of some kind, for Kaede's eyes snapped open, zeroing on him with unerring accuracy.

Tsuzuki stepped forwards. "I'm so –"

"Get out," she snarled.

Stopping in shock, Tsuzuki blinked rapidly.

"I hate you." A single tear trickled from the corner of her eye. "Get out of my sight." Rage twisted her features as she struggled to sit up as though to physically throw him from the room, wincing in pain as her body protested.

He went.

… … … … … … …

Instead going back to the Shihōin compound, Tsuzuki headed straight to the Second Division office. The moment he stepped over the threshold of the outer office, Soifon glanced up and was about to say something when she took a good look at his face. Something must have been visible, for her mouth snapped shut and she sat back down in her chair, ignoring the fact that he did not have an appointment scheduled and was technically intruding illegally. Thankful that she did not try to stop him, Tsuzuki knocked once on the door to the inner office and opened it before Yoruichi had even bid him enter.

"Nee-sama, I'd like to appeal to take the Graduation Test early."

Tsuzuki had never been more glad Yoruichi was highly perceptive – came with her job as the commander of the Onmitsukidō – but she just nodded without asking him any questions, and the very next day he received an official summons to Ōnabora's office.

"I understand that you wish to take the graduation test early," began Ōnabora without aplomb.

"Hai," replied Tsuzuki.

"You understand that this is highly irregular. Rarely does a first year apply to be allowed to take the graduation test, and even more rarely they are allowed to take it before the academic year has ended," continued Ōnabora.

"Hai," repeated Tsuzuki.

Ōnabora gazed searchingly at him for a while. "Recite to me the criteria for graduating from Academy," he instructed.

"The Graduation Test comprises of five compulsory tests and optional specialist exams to improve your chances of being accepted into a division. The compulsory tests examine the subjects history, hohō, hakuda, kidō, and zankō, and are scored out of ten points each. To successfully graduate in my first year, I will have to achieve a total score of at least forty as well as demonstrate considerable talent beyond the set curriculum," answered Tsuzuki promptly.

Ōnabora nodded approvingly. "Very well. Come back on Saturday at nine o' clock for your Graduation Test. You may take this week off to revise the core subjects and consider what skills you wish to demonstrate for the optional examinations. I will send jigoku-chō to invite all interested captains to attend."

"Thank you very much." Tsuzuki bowed gratefully. "You will not regret giving me this chance."

A small rare smile graced Ōnabora's face. "You have been an excellent student, Tsuzuki-san, and I wish you all the best in your future endeavours."

… … … … … … …

Yoruichi was leaning against the gate, arms crossed, when he arrived back at the compound.

"You know," she began conversationally when he neared her. "It is almost certain that every captain and most vice-captains will be attending your Graduation Test. And since you're going to be the only student taking it, all their attention will be on you, so do put on a good show, ne?"

Tsuzuki gulped at the dangerous look she was giving him.

"In fact, just to _ensure_ you don't gravely embarrass the clan, I took the next week off," she continued sweetly.

Tsuzuki did not even manage to let out a strangled scream before he was dragged – _kidnapped_ – to the training grounds.

… … … … … … …

Fifty laps around the training grounds every day, until dodging traps became second nature to him. There was no telling what Aizen could do with the DNA he could gain from a single drop of blood split, even though the man was no scientist, so the most sensible way was to make sure none was split in the first place. In additions, injuries would slow him down, the pain distract him, or in the worst case blood drip into his eyes and blind him.

Just to up the ante, Yoruichi and Kisuke began sparring with him on nightingale floors littered with traps even more creative and lethal than those in the public Shihōin training grounds, to simulate any possible battles he might come across. Tsuzuki had no doubt the traps were Kisuke's own conception; the flair of innovative genius with a touch of insanity was in a class of its own. Senbon tied to self-retracting wires that make it impossible to predict their path of trajectory, for instance. The only way to avoid them was to track them through peripheral vision, while sparring with an opponent who had long mastered the art of multi-tasking in such a warzone. Of course, the nightingale floors were also tuned to be extra-sensitive to the lightest step, and the only way to move across them was to continuously use shunpo so fast his weight was spread out over the entire floor.

Treat every combat situation as a war, and he would never be caught off guard.

… … … … … … …

Tsuzuki pushed the door of the testing dojo open. He paused minutely at the door, taking note of the shocking number of people present, before schooling his features into impassivity. All thirteen captains of the Gotei 13 as well as their respective lieutenants were in attendance, as well as assorted seated officers.

Ōnabora stood at the front of the dojo, hands clasped, looking completely unruffled at the unprecedentedly large audience. "Are you ready, Tsuzuki-san?" he enquired as a formality. The fluid battle stance in which Tsuzuki strode into the room was already a very clear indication.

"Hai," Tsuzuki replied clearly, bowing slightly to his teacher.

Ōnabora bowed back. "Normally, a spar would be conducted between two students, or between myself and the student in question. However, it has been determined that due to your unique circumstances, a change is necessary. You will be sparring against one of these officers in the Gotei 13. To gain the full 40 points for the combat section, you must demonstrate considerable mastery over at least three of the four fields of hohō, zanjutsu, hakuda, and kidō, as well as above-average competence in the last field. A good knowledge of tactics and overall combat ability will be a bonus."

He turned to the assembled officers. "This will be an all-out spar. Both shikai and bankai are permitted, as well as any family techniques. This dojo has already been specially reinforced by the Kidō Corps in preparation for this battle. May I have volunteers please?"

Noticing Soi Fon shift, Ōnabora cleared his throat slightly. "Due to a possible conflict of interest, no members of the Second Division may volunteer."

There was an awkward pause for a while as everyone looked at each other. None of the captains looked willing to volunteer, since if one of them beat Tsuzuki up _too_ badly he might have the Shihōin clan after their heads – the clan head herself was right there after all, whereas if they sent someone too inept they would become the laughing stock of Soul Society. Despite being just an Academy student, Tsuzuki had been trained secretly in the Shihōin Clan for four years, and child prodigies on par with a fukutaichō were rare but not completely unheard of. For him to be adopted by Yoruichi, Tsuzuki must have been special enough to catch her eye.

"Heh. Whatever clan techniques he's got, he's still just a brat. I'll do it, knock him down a few pegs," finally, a dark-skinned thickset man drawled, stepping forwards. He unsheathed his zanpakutō, tapping it idly against his muscular thigh as he waited for Ōnabora to acknowledge his challenge.

Tsuzuki immediately recognised him as Kiganjō Kenpachi, the predecessor of Zaraki Kenpachi, who was said to have been killed by a single stroke of Zaraki's sealed zanpakutō. Lazy and overconfident, these were Kiganjō's two worst flaws, and would serve as his downfall. Now – the question was – would he be allowed to show his true ability, or would he have to hold back?

"Tsuzuki," Yoruichi raised her voice slightly, catching his attention. He turned to look at her. "Take him down," she stated calmly. With those words, he had just been given free rein to go all-out, and no one can blame him for any possible consequences. Perfect. He had been itching for a fight the entire week, something – _anything_ to get rid of this deep-seated frustration, this helplessness that he _failed_ to save yet another person. But really, Yoruichi must have been really annoyed by the clan brat comment to issue such a challenge.

The touch of a smile flitted across his face. "Your wish is my command, onee-sama." He had a lot of pent-up aggression to work out.

As Kiganjō made his way to the centre of the sparring ring, the onlookers having wisely retreated further in anticipation of his wild swings and tendency to push the protective barrier to its limits, Tsuzuki considered his options. Tsuzuki might not have as much muscle as the captain, but he was much more nimble, and as long as he avoided a contest of pure strength he could see himself winning. Judging by Kiganjō's haughty expression, he was either going to stand there and arrogantly offer Tsuzuki a free first strike, or he was going to charge and try to humiliate him as much as possible. Tsuzuki relaxed, unfurling his reiatsu to better sense for attacks.

"Please bow to your opponent," Ōnabora instructed.

Tsuzuki bowed properly from the waist, tracking Kiganjō's movements by reiatsu senses alone. The sharp dispel of air in his direction told him all he needed to know as he dropped to a crouch under the first thrust, hearing but not registering the cries of disapproval from the onlookers, then used a shunpo-aided leap to the side as the blade came slashing down where he was a moment ago.

Tsuzuki straightens, a safer distance away from Kiganjō, and eyed him warily. The other man was frowning that his victory was not as swift as he hoped, but a wild maniac grin spread across his features as he surveyed Tsuzuki in a new light. There was no doubt he was a Kenpachi; he had the same smirk that Zaraki Kenpachi did.

Very well. Until further circumstances come to light, he would treat the man as another Zaraki. Tsuzuki unsheathed his zanpakutō calmly. It was time to test the waters a little.

Dashing forwards at his natural speed, Tsuzuki brought his blade up, and was pleased to note he was not wrong about Kiganjō's own reaction speed. His blade was deftly blocked and Tsuzuki quickly parried, not wanting to get into a competition of strength with the other man. He skipped backwards, tilting his body to the right to avoid a strike at his vitals – _ooh, getting serious, aren't we_ – and applied a touch of shunpo to take this chance to appear beside Kiganjō and slash down at the man.

Almost immediately he was forced to dodge as the captain recovered impossibly fast, bringing his zanpakutō back from its outstretched position in the blink of an eye to swing at Tsuzuki – who was already an afterimage thanks to a deftly applied Utsusemi.

Through the rip in the other man's clothing, Tsuzuki realised that though he had clearly cut the captain, there was no blood – Kiganjō must have been unconsciously exuding enough reiatsu that his entire body was impervious to normal strikes. The only reason why Tsuzuki had not known this already was because he had absolutely no talent in sensing reiatsu pressures unless he was specifically looking at their spirit ribbons, a fact due to his own immense reserves. For a normal shinigami, they subconsciously compare the reiatsu they sense to their own levels, and gauge the other's reiatsu pressure from there. But to a raging waterfall, all streams look around the same size. He could somewhat sense positions if he concentrated – how many streams there were and where they were, and to some extent match up reiatsu signatures with their owners if he was familiar with them – but not how much reiatsu someone had unless it was being actively used such as for bankai or other techniques.

Faced with this realisation, Tsuzuki bounced on the balls of his feet, blinked twice, and nodded sharply. Slipping to the side nimbly as a zanpakutō came crashing down in his previous position, Tsuzuki raised his own blade horizontally, swept his index finger across it, and let sparks of electricity dance down his finger and across the zanpakutō, wreathing it in a blue-white glow.

"Oooh, Tsuzuki Raiden!" Yoruichi bounced, clapping cheerfully. She received a raised eyebrow in reply from most of the other officers gathered and a few ill-concealed groans at the pun. Ōnabora merely nodded and added to his clipboard the usage of Hadō #11: Tsuzuri Raiden without an incantation.

Tsuzuki darted back towards Kiganjō, ducking a punch and blocking the next swipe with his zanpakutō. A mental command sent the lightning streaking down the connected blade as well thanks to conductivity, and he abruptly relaxed his grip at the same time. The sudden loss of an opposing force added to the mild annoyance the lightning posed – similar to a static shock, such a low-level kidō was no threat to a captain of course – caused Kiganjō to overbalance.

Capitalising immediately on the opening he had so painstakingly created, Tsuzuki channelled reiatsu into his leg and kicked viciously at the leg supporting the majority of Kiganjō's weight. In the same moment, he brought his zanpakutō downwards in a two-handed slash, and this time he felt it bite into skin.

Kiganjō stumbled under the dual onslaught but managed to catch himself before he fell. Instead he growled incoherently, shaking, and muttered under his breath.

Tsuzuki was forced to jump back as Kiganjō rose again in an avalanche of reiatsu, his zanpakutō lengthening and widening. While Kiganjō entered shikai, Tsuzuki studied the unsealed blade in his hand, taking note of the way Kiganjō handled the broadsword and its reach. Directly crossing blades with the captain would not be the wisest course of action, and hakuda against such an opponent would be suicidal without some form of protection, since it would be sheer arrogance to presume Kiganjō would be drastically slowed by the size of his unsealed zanpakutō. No matter, Tsuzuki had demonstrated sufficient hakuda and zanjutsu (he hoped) to clear the first two sections.

He knew the unspoken regulations. To gain a seated position, he must release his shikai during an appropriate portion of the exam. In his case, it would be the combat portion. So few Academy students gain their shikai that it was never an official part of the rules, but any Academy student able to demonstrate a level of competence with their shikai usually was offered a seated position. This morning, he had specifically raised the regulated output level on his reiatsu suppressor, so that he could utilise his shikai without collapsing.

However, given that his shikai form was not in the shape of a sword, he had to clear the zanjutsu section first before unsealing his zanpakutō. Given that Kiganjō was already in shikai, to leave his zanpakutō sealed was sheer arrogance that could cause him to be severely injured.

All that passed his mind in a split second as he called, "Utareru, Kurai'arashi!"

The zanpakutō disappeared from his hand, hilt and all, and without another word crystallised in the middle of the room, spread across the floor at ankle length, criss-crossed into razor-fine wires. It would at the very least slow Kiganjō down while he maneuvered across the room to where Tsuzuki stood. Seeing the sight, Kiganjō hesitated in his charge.

Tsuzuki was already pressing his advantage. "Bakudō no sanjū, Shitotsu Sansen!" A trio of yellow triangles coalesced in front of the captain, hitting him and pinning against the far wall.

"You think this weak spell can hold me?" Kiganjō roared, his reiatsu flaring up. Cracks began forming on the yellow light, showing the bakudō would not be able to handle the strain much longer.

"Of course not," Tsuzuki replied dismissively. One of the first lessons Kisuke beat into him – never stop firing until he sees his opponent's defeated body. The worst flaw anyone can have in a battle is hubris. Kisuke's first ever direct combat against Aizen stood out as a stark reminder in his mind, for Kisuke was the only one who ever managed to injure Aizen – albeit he healed swiftly – and continuously out-witted the traitor with a barrage of attacks, using anything and everything including his own body as a decoy for his multi-layered plans. If it was not for the hogyoku, Aizen would have died a dozen times over in that battle.

"Carriage of thunder, bridge of a spinning wheel. With light, divide this into six!" A bright light emanated from his index finger as he finished his next kidō. "Bakudō no rokujū-ichi, Rikujōkōrō! Six thin, wide beams of light slammed into Kiganjō's midsection, holding him in place just as the previous binding spell was overcome. Immobilised briefly, Kiganjō glared at Tsuzuki as he gathered his reiatsu once again.

"Hadō no gojū-hachi, Tenran!" Tsuzuki followed up immediately, holding out a hand before him. A widening tornado-like blast fired towards the immobilised Kiganjō, who was already able to twitch slightly.

Without waiting for the dust to clear, Tsuzuki slid into his fastest shunpo and charged straight at Kiganjō behind his last kidō, Kurai'arashi shifting itself with a mental command to clear a path for him as he moved. Halfway across the room, he felt Kiganjō's reiatsu pressure undoubtedly flare, and the wires instantly changed their position, folding themselves upon the captain like a net, sharp edge faced inwards. In the split second after Tenran impacted, Tsuzuki let loose a battle cry and smashed his reiatsu-enhanced fist into Kiganjō's right wrist.

Snarling in pain, Kiganjō's grip loosened on his broadsword, just as Tsuzuki planned. Kurai'arashi flowed smoothly to knee-level and tangled itself between the captain's legs to hopefully trip him. But Kiganjō recovered ridiculously fast, and the broadsword bit deeply into Tsuzuki's side. Tsuzuki relaxed let himself be blasted away by the impact, knowing that resistance would only make the injury worse. Instead, he reappeared behind Kiganjō, and used his momentum to crash heavily into Kiganjō's unprotected back, pinning him to the ground.

"Jūgeki Byakurai!" The hole in Kiganjō's shoulder delayed the captain's reaction just a millisecond, which was all Tsuzuki needed to bring his resealed zanpakutō up to Kiganjō's neck, drawing a sliver of blood. Kiganjō froze.

And then the applause started.

Tsuzuki straightened slowly, coming out of his post-battle adrenaline high, and blinked uncomprehendingly at the observers surrounding him. Yoruichi and Kisuke was happily cheering away, of course, but most of the other officers were also clapping, though some more enthusiastically than others.

"Captains, your verdict please." Ōnabora stated calmly, looking completely unruffled by this turn of events. The sheer amount of raw potential in the Shihōin heir has ceased to amaze him already.

"Although Tsuzuki-san is indeed capable and possesses many redeeming qualities, the First Division does not have a suitable position open for him at this moment." The vice-captain Chōjurō Sasakibe bowed slightly to Tsuzuki, who returned it, not at all bothered. He had no interest in the First Division anyway, though it would have been a great honour to be offered a position there.

Yoruichi was next. "The Second Division would like to make the offer of joint third seat to Tsuzuki-san," she said formally, but ruined the formal atmosphere by tossing Tsuzuki a small smile. Tsuzuki blinked twice quickly, the only sign of how surprised he was at the unexpectedly high seat number. It was as high as she could make it – Yoruichi was not going to give up captaincy, vice-captain had to be Soifon for political reasons, and her third seat was Kisuke. To offer him a joint third seat instead of the open fourth seat was a clear statement of her expectations and his responsibilities.

Next was Rōjūrō Ōtoribashi. "The Third Division would like to offer the sixth seat to Tsuzuki-san, in recognition of his positive attitude in the face of adversity," the laid-back man declared, throwing Tsuzuki a wink as he did so. Tsuzuki blinked slowly back.

It was Unohana's turn. "Although Tsuzuki-san did not demonstrate the stellar control over his reiatsu I generally look for in candidates, I would like to offer him the Fourth Division seventh seat in recognition of his overwhelming potential as a front-line combat medic. Tsuzuki-san's shikai, reiatsu reserves and unparalleled speed can save many lives in the immediate aftermath of a Hollow encounter should he be equipped with several medical kidō that rely more on reiatsu output rather than control.

"The Fifth Division shall offer the fourth position to Tsuzuki-san, due to his well-rounded abilities and combat readiness. What do you think of choral music?" And suddenly Shinji was grinning at Tsuzuki as if he had known him all his life, and Tsuzuki focused on the once-Visored (future-Visored?) with all his might, pretending his heart did not skip a beat at the mere glimpse of Aizen out of the corner of his eye.

Ginrei stepped up. "The Sixth Division would like to offer the eighth position to Tsuzuki-san, after seeing the versatility of his shikai and its potential in keeping law and order."

"The Seventh Division wishes to offer the third seat to Tsuzuki-san." And that was Aikawa Love, short and to the point.

Kyōraku was next. "The Eighth Division would like to honour Tsuzuki-san's capability; however unfortunately all our top seated positions are already filled." He gave a careless shrug, smiling at Tsuzuki under the rim of his wide hat. Tsuzuki bowed back in response.

"The Ninth Division offers the fifth position to Tsuzuki-san, in light of how effective his shikai would be in the capture and detainment of criminals for internal law enforcement." Kensei was all business, Mashiro a hyperactive ball of energy next to him.

"The Tenth Division recognises Tsuzuki-san's prowess and would like to offer the fourth seat to Tsuzuki-san." Tsuzuki mentally snorted at the exaggerated praise from his father. _'Good job,'_ Isshin added silently. Then, as if it pained him to be solemn and formal for so long, _'My darling son has grown up and is beating up captains now!'_

Tsuzuki replied with the mental equivalent of a drop-kick. _'Been doing that since I was fifteen!'_ he snapped as Isshin sent back a mental image of tears streaming down from both eyes.

"Hell yeah! I haven't had a fight that good for ages! Kid, if you come to the Eleventh Division, you can take the vice-captain position." Kiganjō positively leered. Tsuzuki winced slightly. Great, just what he needed. Another Kenpachi chasing him for a good fight. No way in hell was he joining the Eleventh, not even with the ridiculously high position he was offered.

"While the Twelfth Division greatly respects Tsuzuki-san's combat ability," began Hikifune Kirio, "we believe he does not have the passion for innovation and technology necessary for a career in our division." She inclined her head politely towards Tsuzuki, who nodded back, not at all insulted by her words. He might respect Kisuke a great deal, but joining the research division was too far a stretch for him. Not to mention sometimes even Kisuke calls the rest of his division a bunch of incompetent fools, though it was no fault of Hikifune's. Most of the ones who do end up picking the Twelfth Division were either socially-inept nerds whose heads were so full of science they had no common sense, or those with too little combat ability and no burning desire to learn medical kidō.

Finally, Ukitake stepped up, coughing lightly. "The Thirteenth Division thinks Tsuzuki-san would make an excellent support-type fighter and thus would like to offer the sixth seat position to Tsuzuki-san."

Ōnabora nodded at all the captains and spoke up again, "What is your choice, Shihōin Tsuzuki-san?"

He had made his choice long ago, before he had stepped into the testing dojo, possibly before he had even entered the Academy. He had told no one of his goal, fearing she would not make an offer for him.

This time, he would save them all with his own two hands.

"I would like to join the Fourth Division."

**Author's Notes:**

**All information regarding the Gotei 13 were taken from Bleach wikia and cross-referenced with the manga/anime. I was going to make either Love or Rose shove manga under Tsuzuki's nose, but then I realised manga in its present form was only popularised after WWII (at the very least, I'm quite sure **_**Shōnen Jump**_** didn't exist 110 years ago). Hence the lack of humour overall. For anyone who wants a refresher, Kisuke vs. Aizen can be seen in the anime episode 300.**

**OMG why didn't anyone tell me I made such a horrible mistake :O while beta'ing my own chapters and searching for plot holes I realised that I used the wrong honorific in Chapter 5 . argh but it's all fixed now. All chapters have been re-uploaded, so please inform me if you see a replacement error or something. Most edits are one or two words (or the removal of an AN), so you don't really have to go back and re-read unless you've forgotten the plot or something.**

**And, uh, dear reviewer – Chad was killed by an Arrancar. I don't know how you managed to interpret that scene as him being killed by falling debris, but well… Also, if Orihime could bring back the dead anytime she feels like doing so, she would just resurrect the whole of the Gotei 13 over and over again, and all the antagonists would be screwed. I don't care what the manga says nowadays, that's ridiculous.**


End file.
